Hopes and Dreams
by SnapeLestrangeGirl
Summary: George Weasley and Original Character romance, the timeline is somewhat discontinuous, so sorry if it's hard to follow. It's rated T, but it's prolly really like a T plus. Please don't be too critical, but feedback is always appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

Ginny slowed, and looked back at me expectantly. I smiled at her and waved her on. She nodded and rushed off toward Honeydukes, leaving me alone in Hogsmeade. I turned back to head in the direction from which we had just come. We had been visiting Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Part II just a few moments before, so George wouldn't be surprised to see me. I slipped in the back entrance and through the storeroom. It was a Sunday evening, and this was the first year that Seventh years were allowed to spend Saturday and Sunday in Hogsmeade if they wished. George stood at the register flipping through a catalog from Flourish and Blotts. He looked dreadfully bored. I smiled softly and snuck up behind him, slipping my arms around his trim waist. He jumped slightly and looked down into my face with a warm smile. George turned in my grasp so that he was facing me.

"Annabelle, you're going to miss the feast, if you don't hurry back," he said quietly, sliding one of his arms around my waist.

We had all been shocked to discover that when not around Fred, George was actually almost normal. Of course, he still pulled pranks on his own, but never to extravagant level of their combined pranks, and unlike Fred, George never felt the need to pull out all the stops on his own.

"That's ok," I murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, and smiling sweetly. "There are plenty of feasts at Hogwarts. A few too many, actually. I especially dislike this new One Month to Testing feast," I continued.

"Maybe they just aren't interesting enough since Fred and I left," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I laughed outright.

"They certainly lack the…flair of my first four years," I replied.

He simply smiled and ran a hand through my thick, chocolate colored hair. He pulled out a few pieces of confetti and burst out laughing. I blushed deeply, and looked at the floor in embarrassment. It was my birthday, and Ginny had asked my mother to send all sorts of party supplies. It didn't bother me that my mother had sent the supplies, seeing as my parents had a networth of over four hundred fifty million dollars.

"Happy Birthday, Anna," he said with a bright twinkle in his eyes. "Why don't you come on up and I'll make you supper?" he asked, dropping an affectionate kiss on my nose.

"That would be wonderful," I said, as he waved his wand, locking the front of the shop and hanging a closed sign beside the door.

With a mischievous grin, George picked me up, cradling me protectively against his chest. I had gasped when he lifted me, and I clutched at his shirt. Most people would not have dared to try that kind of a surprise on me. After growing up in Manhattan, I was always far more guarded than most of the general student population at Hogwarts. On many occasions I had hexed students sneaking up on me out of an almost automatic response.

George glanced down at my fingers, which were curled tightly into his shirt, he grinned wickedly.

"You know, you could wait until we were in my flat before you start trying to undress me," he teased.

I tore my gaze from the stairs, which were about five feet below me, and looked at his shirt. Indeed, my fingers were holding the material of his shirt so tightly that the buttons were straining, and it did look as though I was trying to rip his shirt off without even unbuttoning it. I blushed furiously and relaxed my grip.

"Thank you, darling," he murmured as he stepped through the doorway into his flat.

Unlike Fred, George actually kept his living quarters tidy on his own. Of course, Fred didn't have to be clean anymore since he had married Angelina. George's flat was very masculine, and I was always struck by the lack of anything feminine anywhere in the entire room. All of the furniture was sized to be comfortable for large males, and it was all done in rich, buttery, tan suede. Thick burgundy and green throw blankets were lying on the arms of the couch and one of the enormous chairs. He had hard wood floors and the walls were painted warm and inviting beige.

"I am always struck by just how much I love the way your flat looks," I murmured as my gaze drifted around his living room. "Hmm, but I think your kitchen is my favorite," I added, simply stating facts. George smirked slightly and set me gently on my feet.

Even in my three-inch heeled shoes, the top of my head barely reached the bottom of his ear. I was a very small, petite person. Fred had taken great pride in teasing me about the fact that I was even smaller than Ginny when I visited their family at the Burrow last summer. I was about five feet and one and a half inches tall, but I didn't know what that was in the metric system. George was at least a foot taller than I was, and somehow I never felt intimidated by his advantage over me.

"Well, Miss Callahan, it is your birthday, so what would you like for your supper?" he asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Somehow I missed the look of blatant desire that was crossing his features. I slowly walked toward him until I stood directly before him, my warm blue eyes gazing up at him, and smiled slowly.

"What are you offering? What do _you_ want?" I asked playfully.

His arms swept around me, and his lips crushed down on mine. I melted against him, my arms sliding up to link behind his neck. George pulled away and looked down at me for a second before opening his mouth.

"I think we both know what I want," he replied, as his eyes slid over my face.

I nodded breathlessly, and his lips once again descended upon my own.

"George," I murmured as his lips toyed with my jawline. He looked at me, as if waiting for me to tell him to stop as I had once or twice before.

"Yes, love?" he asked quietly, his thumb coming up to stroke my cheek.

"I love you," I whispered, as his eyes bore into mine.

At once his arms dragged me to him, and his lips reclaimed mine.


	2. Chapter 2

I looked nervously at the house standing before me. The last time I had been to the Burrow it had been as Ginny's friend coming to stay for a week or two in the summer. George held my hand as we walked from the garden up to the house. There were still a number of wards in place from the war. Bill and Mr. Weasley had never gotten around to taking down the Anti-Apparition wards around the house, and as a result we had to apparate into the gardens.

"What's wrong, love?" George asked, stopping suddenly and looking down at me.

My eyes snapped up to meet his. I couldn't very well tell him what was wrong now. We were about to go into his parents house to spend the next few days.

"What makes you think something's wrong?" I snapped in a peevish tone, setting my hands on my hips.

"Anna," he said quietly, searching my face as his arms slipped around my slim waist. "Talk to me," he murmured.

"I can't," I whispered, feeling tears at the back of my throat.

It was killing me, keeping this secret. It wasn't right not to tell him, I knew that of course, but I couldn't bring myself to say the words. Something inside was too frightened that he would hate me forever if I told him the truth. If I told him that I was pregnant.

"Fine," he said, dropping his arms and heading up toward the house without me.

My jaw dropped and I watched him walk a few steps.

"Don't you dare walk away from me, George Weasley," I said in a positively frigid tone. "Don't you dare leave me standing out here like a fool."

He stopped and turned to look at me with eyebrows raised. I knew that he was reaching the end of his rope. Over the last month and a half I had been experiencing extreme mood swings, and had been throwing random tantrums. George typically just sat and waited for me to finish, but recently I had begun to lose my temper with him as well as everyone else.

George stalked dangerously back over to me, and I stared at him defiantly. My head was held high, and my hair was whipping around in the wind.

"Annabelle Callahan, I don't think you realize just how much you've been trying my patience the last two weeks. I'm willing to wait for you to tell me what's bothering you, but I'm not going to wait forever," he told me quietly. I stared at him. My lower lip began to tremble, and tears filled my eyes.

"But you'll just be upset!" I cried, as tears began to gather in my eyes.

His eyes widened, and George gathered me in his arms making soothing sounds and rubbing my back. I gradually calmed down, and by the time that I was calm enough to walk into the house with him, Ginny and Harry had already realized we were there and came racing out of the house.

"Annabelle!" Ginny shrieked, launching herself at me. I allowed her to pull me into a tight embrace and smiled brightly. Harry clapped George hard on the back, asking about the shop in Hogsmeade.

"Oy! If it isn't my better half!" Fred shouted from the kitchen doorway. George smirked and Fred grinned malevolently. "Annabelle!" he added, throwing a teasing glance at George, who lifted a brow. As Fred rushed toward me, George casually dropped something on the ground in front of him, and as Fred stepped on it, he immediately was standing in the midst of a personal rainstorm.

As Fred and George were walking back toward the house speaking quietly with Harry, I looked over at Ginny. She looked me in the eye.

"You're leaving him," she said quietly, immense sorrow pooling in her features.

My eyes once again filled with tears. "I have to, Ginny," I whispered.

"He loves you so," Ginny said frantically, clutching at my hand. "You can't leave him. He's not nearly as strong as he looks."

"Ginny," I said, tears falling down my cheeks; "I can't stay."

She nodded, wrapping her arms around me.

"What did you do?" George shouted with rage evident in his tone. He rushed down from the kitchen doorway to where Ginny and I stood.

I was now in full-out sobs, tears running down my face, and my breath catching. He pulled me into his arms, and rocked me gently, dropping kisses on my forehead and stroking my hair.

"Ginny," he said warningly, one of his hands reaching for his wand.

"She didn't do anything," I said quickly, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. He looked down at me skeptically. "Really," I added.

George nodded slowly and lifted me easily into his arms. Ginny trailed behind us slowly, and I watched as Harry walked out to meet her. They had a hushed conversation, stopping a few feet away from the kitchen door. George ignored everyone in the house, and walked over to an empty chair in the living room, and sat, cradling me in his strong arms. My sniffles subsided until I simply sat in his lap, trying to memorize exactly how this felt and trying not to think about the fact that tomorrow I was going to be leaving him forever.

"So, Annabelle, have you decided on a career yet? I have some very nice positions open at the Ministry," Mr. Weasley inquired. I smiled wanly.

"I haven't really decided," I replied, and swatted at George's hands so that I could stand up. "I appreciate your offer, though," I added.

Hermione looked at me as if I was crazy. She had jumped at a chance to work in the Ministry when she was my age, and I had the same kind of grades that she had. There were many similarities between the two of us, but unlike Hermione, I also had an offer to play professional Quidditch for Texas.

"Annabelle, you should really think about it," Hermione told me firmly.

"Oh, and I will, Hermione," I replied a little more harshly than I had intended before I swept out of the living room and down to the kitchen.

I rolled over in the bed, sliding easily out of George's arms, and he made no protest, he simply rolled over in his sleep. I looked at the clock. 3 a.m. As quietly as possible, I gathered my scattered clothing, and dressed as quickly as I could. George was a very deep sleeper, but Ginny on the other hand was one of the lightest sleepers I had ever met. I shrunk my travel bags down so that they fit in the pocket of my tight flared jeans and pulled on a light jacket, before looking down at George. I had already written a note explaining as best I could, without mentioning the baby of course. I set the note on my pillow and took a slow, deep breath. George was still deeply asleep. I leaned down to kiss his forehead gently, and he stirred slightly.

"Anna," he murmured, not really waking up at all.

"It's ok love," I murmured, and kissed his lips gently before sneaking out of the room. Ginny was sitting just outside her room and walked with me down to the garden.

"So I guess this means you won't be coming to my wedding?" she asked quietly, looking at me sadly.

"When is it?" I asked, looking up at her.

"February Twentieth," she said quietly.

"Oh Ginny, of course I'll come. Just send me an invitation," I whispered, pulling her into a tight hug.

"You should tell him," Ginny said suddenly.

"What?" I asked, staring at her blankly.

"You should tell George about the baby," Ginny told me quietly.

"George isn't the marrying kind. George doesn't want children," I whispered brokenly. "He told me that when we first started dating." I angrily wiped away the tears that managed to escape my eyes.

"Things might have changed since then," she said fiercely.

"Make sure he knows that I love him," I whispered and apparated away before she could respond.

I squinted in the bright sun and pulled off my jacket in the oppressive heat. I walked briskly into the offices across the street.

"I want to speak to Mr. Harroway about his offer," I told the receptionist.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh my girls, momma loves you," I whispered to my newborn daughters. I had named the first Gianna Molly Callahan and the second Adele Louise Callahan, but it was obvious that they were Weasleys despite their legal surname. Their vibrant red hair was already curling and they had the lungs to match any of their British family.

"Anna, I am perfectly capable of taking care of your daughters while you go to Ginevra's wedding," my mother told me, as she continued to rock my baby.

Unlike most new mommies I was already slim and back in perfect pre-baby shape. That had been part of the requirement for my position with the Quidditch team here in Texas. I had to undergo some plastic surgery. I was essentially ready to get training and flying in the games. I played seeker, and it was going to be a hell of a season.

"I know, I know," I sighed. "I'll be back in two days," I told her. She nodded.

"Have fun, Annabelle," mother said with a soft smile.

"Thanks, Momma," I replied, before apparating to London.

The Leaky Cauldron stood before me and I smiled fondly at the old inn. I pushed the door open and found that Tom was waiting for me. I had brought only one other outfit and the dress I was going to wear to the wedding, so my baggage was minimal.

"You're in room 109," he told me. "Just down the hall and to the left."

"Thanks, your such a dear," I said, and headed to my room.

After entering, I shut the door and leaned against it with my eyes closed. I counted myself lucky that Fred hadn't been lunching when I had arrived. Now, if I could only avoid the twins for the rest of my two-day stay, all would be well.

"Hello, Annabelle," an all too familiar voice said calmly.

My eyes slid slowly open to find that George was sitting in one of the armchairs in my room. He was staring at me with cold and angry eyes. I stared at him, before shaking my head and walking to set my bag on the bed. I could feel his eyes on me.

"George," I finally acknowledged, turning to face him.

"You didn't really think that you could come to my sister's wedding and not have to see me, did you?" he sneered, as he gazed at me.

"I had hoped that I would be able to accomplish that, yes," I replied evenly, as I turned to take out my dress and hang it up.

"Are you really that thick?" he asked nastily.

"Oh stop it!" I cried, whirling around to face him. "You told me that you weren't going to wait for me to talk to you! I knew you would never want to marry me, and you know what George? I wanted to marry you desperately by that time!" My voice was rising and I was gesticulating wildly. "But you're NOT THE MARRYING KIND!" I shrieked. "You wanted to know what was bothering me? The fact that you were never going to marry me!" I shouted.

He stared at me open mouthed and wide-eyed.

"Oh no," he whispered, standing up slowly. He walked toward me slowly, and I held out one of my hands.

"No, George, no. It's time for you to leave," I whispered, and he tried to take my hand, but I had raised a shield around myself.

"Drop the shield, Annabelle," he growled.

"No," I said, looking up at him with icy eyes. "Leave."

He stared at me for a moment before turning and slamming out the door. I dropped the shield and quickly locked the door behind him, before crawling into my bed and crying uncontrollably for the rest of the day.

I stared at the enormous stadium, and felt my pulse beating wildly. My mother was seated in the box with the owner of the team, holding my now six-month-old twin daughters. I took a deep slow breath and fiddled idly with my Firebolt 250. We had somehow made it to the World Cup. I still couldn't really believe it. I was going to have play against Potter. I had the advantage there, in that I was the lightest, smallest player in the entire league, but he was legendary. At ninety-five pounds, and five foot one, not a single other player in the league could hope to match me for speed. I began to fidget nervously as I waited while the announcer called out the names of the other members of my team. Finally:

"And Annabelle Callahan as seeker!" he cried. I soared out onto the pitch to thunderous applause from the Americans.

With a heart of lead, I watched as the English team soared out. Not only did they have Potter as Seeker, but Ginny Weasley, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell as chasers. I suddenly realized that if we wanted to win, I was going to be the key. Potter soared out onto the pitch to outrageously loud applause and screams. I scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces and found several, including the entire Weasley family, all of who were watching me with angry eyes. I tossed my head and met Harry's gaze.

"Luck, Potter," I called.

"You're going to need more luck than you can imagine," he replied with a teasing grin. I laughed and waited until play began.

Immediately England scored two goals, and we responded with three. My eyes were scouring the ground. I noticed Harry trying to trick me with a Wronskie, but I didn't take the bait and after only a few feet he pulled out, looking at me oddly. After two hours the snitch still had not put in an appearance when suddenly Harry went into a steep dive. I searched the area he was heading for and saw nothing. A flash of gold on the opposite side of the pitch caught my eyes, and I shot off like an arrow. I went into a steep dive and instantly knew that the snitch was going to shoot straight up. I jerked my broom so that I was going straight vertical and the snitch flew up alongside me. Potter was only about three feet behind me, and I couldn't afford to wait for the snitch to catch up to me. I did the only thing I could think of that would get me to where the snitch was quickly enough. I let go of my broom and grabbed the snitch as I plummeted toward the ground. I was five feet from the ground when Jason, one of our chasers, caught me in his arms. I laughed warmly in relief and held my fist aloft, the tiny golden wings beating angrily against my fingers. The cheers and screams from the Americans were deafening as everyone realized that I had won the game. Harry looked upset, but he congratulated me and my teammates were shrieking at me about the move I had pulled. It was something that had never been done before, like many of my signature moves.

"ANNABELLE CALLAHAN!" My mother shrieked as she ran toward me. She had left Gianna and Adele with my father in the box. "What were you thinking!" I grinned sheepishly.

"I wanted to win, Momma," I replied with a saucy grin.


	4. Chapter 4

"Momma, can we go to the joke shop?" Gianna asked, her eyes staring avidly at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. I sighed, nodded, and allowed her to run ahead of me into the store. Adele remained by my side, holding my hand and gazing longingly at Quidditch Quality Supplies.

She took after her father so much that at times it was downright painful for me to be around her. Gianna had this insane desire to pull prank after prank and she always looked so damned mischievous that I was constantly watching her. Furthermore, Gianna had taken to inventing her own joke items and pranks. Adele took after me. She was extremely studious and a very intellectual girl. Both girls looked like their father, but it was looking as though they had inherited my genes for height and build. It tore me to pieces that both of the girls were better at being Beaters than Seekers, and I held out no hope that they would ever stop completing eachother's sentences.

"Momma, can we go to the Quidditch store?" Adele asked hopefully, her beautiful eyes boring into mine.

"Of course sweetheart, after we Gianna's joke stuff, and your wands," I replied, squeezing her hand briefly.

We walked into the shop and I saw hordes of children clambering around, making purchase after purchase. Adele wandered off to look at some of the merchandise while I waited just inside the door. A familiar voice caused me to listen a little more carefully.

"I swear, that girl looks so familiar," he said. I knew it was George.

"She looks like a Weasley," Fred replied quietly.

"Gianna, look what I found!" I heard Adele cry.

"There are two of them?" George asked incredulously.

"Whoa…that's awesome," Gianna grinned. "We need some of those too," Gianna said, and I heard candies falling into a basket. "Let's go find Momma."

"Ok," Adele answered, and they reached the end of the aisle. They had only been one aisle over.

"Momma, look at all of this stuff! It's so much better than the stuff I've been trying to invent at home!" Gianna cried, holding up the basket.

"Great, let's go pay for it all, dear," I said, taking the basket. I looked up from my daughters smiling faces and saw George Weasley staring at me in shock. I smiled weakly.

"George, what is it? Who do those girls belong to?" Fred asked, as he peeked around George to see me standing there with my two daughters. "Whoa, shit," Fred whispered as he jumped back behind the aisle, hiding himself from view.

"Momma!" Gianna shrieked, jerking on my sleeve.

"I know, I know, we're going to pay," I snapped, marching toward the register. I was almost there when a hand gripped my upper arm in a strong vice-like grip causing me to stumble and jerk around.

Without even looking up, I knew exactly who had grabbed me and I lifted a fiery gaze on George, and gave my arm a strong jerk, only to find he wasn't letting go that easily. His eyes were aflame, and he looked ready to kill me. I met his gaze and once again tried to jerk my arm out of his grasp. Fred had slunk over behind the counter to stand beside Lee, and was whispering quickly out of the side of his mouth. Lee's eyes were growing steadily larger, while I was growing steadily more angry.

"Momma?" Adele asked nervously, staring at George. Gianna was starting to look very upset about the situation, and I glanced at my two daughters.

"Excuse me, Mr. Weasley, but I need to go pay for my daughter's items," I said in a frosty tone. I had never seen George so angry; he looked about ready to murder me on the spot.

"Don't take that tone with me, Annabelle," he said in a growling whisper.

"Let go of my mother," Gianna said in a low, angry tone, staring defiantly up at George.

He blinked and looked down at Gianna, and his grip on my arm relaxed considerably. I took the opportunity to yank my arm out of his grasp. Unfortunately, I used a bit too much force, and fell into the shelves on the other side of the walkway. I stood up and marched up to the counter. Fred stared at me as I set down my purchases. George was still watching my little girls with amazement, and hadn't moved from his earlier spot in the store.

"Hello, Annabelle, I didn't realize you were back in Britain," Fred said in a polite tone. I stared at him.

"Yes, the girls are leaving on the train for Hogwarts tomorrow," I replied, as he rang up the items in the basket.

"Really? Perhaps they'll meet Ron and Hermione's son, Nathan," Fred commented, staring right back at me.

I noticed he had finished ringing up the items.

"How much do I owe you?" I asked coldly, pulling out my wallet.

"One hundred and seventy-five galleons," he said without batting an eye. I whirled around to stare at Gianna.

"You picked out almost two hundred galleons worth of joke paraphernalia?" I shrieked, staring at my daughter. Gianna shrank back.

"No, actually, she picked out twenty-five galleons worth of merchandise," Fred said lazily.

"Excuse me?" I asked in a deadly calm voice, turning slowly to face him. "You're going to charge me an extra one hundred and fifty galleons?" I asked in a frigid tone.

"Yes, that was the idea," he replied smirking slightly.

"Fine. Nevermind, we will just go elsewhere to purchase these items," I replied and with that grabbed both of my daughters by their hands and marched out of the store.

We were just about to walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies, when someone called after us.

"Annabelle, wait!" I stopped and turned to see George running up the street after us. I waited for him to reach us, and he held out a bag emblazoned with his store name on the front. "These are for your girls," he said in an odd tone. I took the bag and handed it to Gianna, who immediately began digging through its contents.

"Thanks, George," I replied, reaching for my purse. "How much do I owe you?" I asked.

"Nothing, it's a gift," he said, watching as Gianna grinned at some of the products she pulled out. "I, uh…I would like to speak with you," he said quietly, tearing his eyes off of Gianna and Adele who were grinning from ear to ear as they walked into the Quidditch store.

"I suppose we could arrange that," I replied in a polite tone. "The girls and I are staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight, and I'll be there for a couple of weeks while I look for a flat out in Hogsmeade."

"Hogsmeade, what for?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"Well, the girls are going to Hogwarts, and although they can't come visit me for these two years, I would like to be able to see them when they are able to visit," I replied. "Look, they're leaving on the train tomorrow, and if you'd like to speak with me privately it'll have to be after that."

He nodded and looked into the store and through the window saw our daughters gazing lovingly at a Firebolt 250. I still had them using Nimbus 2001's, but knew that they wanted new brooms.

"They're mine, aren't they?" he asked in a quiet tone.

I swallowed and glanced at Gianna and Adele before replying.

"Yes, they're yours," I whispered.

"Why didn't you tell me?" George demanded, whipping an enraged gaze up to me. "Didn't you think I ought to know that I had two daughters? Don't you think that I might have wanted to be a part of their lives? What gave you the idea that you couldn't tell me about them?" he asked, leaning close to me.

"You wouldn't have wanted them," I said simply.

He stared at me, apparently shocked and appalled that I would say that. I didn't wait for him to reply I simply turned to walk into the store where my girls were waiting to try and weasel a new broomstick out of me.


	5. Chapter 5

Tears threatened as I watched the scarlet steam engine pulling out from Platform 9 ¾. I took a slow breath and turned to walk back into King's Cross train station, feeling as though a part of me was gone with the girls.

"Annabelle?"

I turned to find a somewhat older Ron and Hermione Weasley standing a few feet away. My face flushed, and I smiled warmly.

"Hello! Ron, Hermione, it's so wonderful to see you," I said sweetly and made my way over to them. It wasn't until I was much closer that I realized not only were Ron and Hermione there, but so were Molly, Arthur, Ginny, Harry, and the twins.

"Bit of a shock seeing you here," Ron said bluntly.

"Ron," Hermione hissed, glancing at him quickly.

"Quite a going away party for your son, Hermione. He's very lucky to have so many who care about her," I said sweetly.

"Oh, well, you know, first grandson going off to Hogwarts, it was a momentous occasion," Ron boasted, draping his arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"So, Annabelle, what brings you here today?" Molly asked, with a forced smile. I could tell that she was not pleased to see me at all, and I tried to smile warmly at her.

"Oh, I was just…well, you see…" I tried to think quickly, but then Ginny brought a cold gaze to bear on me.

"She was here to see her daughter off to Hogwarts," Ginny said in a positively frigid tone.

"Children have to be about eleven to go to Hogwarts, Ginny," Harry said, looking at his wife as though she were crazy.

"Yes, Harry, I know that, and Annabelle's is," Ginny said.

Molly's eyes snapped onto my face, and Arthur looked a touch puzzled, Hermione's eyes widened, and Ron looked positively murderous.

"Are, actually," I replied quietly looking at my feet.

"Excuse me?" Ginny asked, sounding shocked.

"I have twin girls, Gianna and Adele, thus it would be are, not is," I elaborated. I heard Hermione try to stifle a chuckle.

"Eleven years ago you were involved with George," Ron said murderously.

"Yes, we all know that, Ronald," Molly snapped. "What we don't know is whether he was the only one."

I lifted my face and stared at her directly. George finally decided to enter the conversation.

"If you'd seen the girls, you wouldn't bother asking that, mum," George said, giving his mother a matter-of-fact look. "I don't think that you can find children who look like that and aren't Weasleys."

Molly opened and closed her mouth several times. Most of the platform was empty, so I wasn't terribly embarrassed. She looked at her son as though she was going to kill him.

"And you didn't tell your family?" she shrieked, anger written plainly on all of her features.

"He couldn't tell you, because he didn't know," I told her in a very firm voice.

Everyone was staring at me like I was crazy, except for George.

"I didn't tell him. He never knew. Most people don't know about the girls, just my family and my coach," I said quietly.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Molly asked me in a very dangerous tone.

"Because George told me many times that he was not the marrying kind, he didn't want to have children, he didn't want to get married, he just didn't want any of it!" I said, my voice rising. "I wasn't going to let him be miserable and stuck with me and children because I screwed up!" I shouted. I had been so busy getting worked up that I hadn't noticed George getting nearly as upset as I was.

"How did you know I was going to be miserable?" he shouted, shoving Ron out of the way as he stomped over to me. "How could you possibly have known that?"

"Because people are miserable when they're forced to do things that aren't in their character and that they don't want to do!" I screamed back.

"Well maybe I did want to marry you back then!" He growled.

"Then why didn't you ever ask me?"

"I was going to, but then you started getting all moody and emotional and secretive…" he trailed off, as he stared at me.

"Maybe you should have thought about it all a little more back then," I said hoarsely. "I'm leaving. I hope that you all will let me introduce you to my daughters," I said quietly, staring at the floor.

"Of course we will," Arthur said softly. "Even if they didn't know about us before, they certainly have a right to know now."

I nodded and slowly walked through the barrier. I made it all the way out to where I had parked my rental car, before I broke down. I leaned against the car, crying and shuddering with emotions that I didn't want to think about. I had never stopped loving George, and I had hoped through our entire relationship that maybe he would change his mind and decide that I was the girl he wanted to marry. And now to know that it was true…I cried even harder, weeping for all that could have been.

"Annabelle," Ginny said softly. I hadn't heard her come up behind me.

"Oh Ginny," I cried, trying to pull myself together. "What do you want?"

"Sweetheart, I know you love him still. I knew you loved him then," she said, holding my shoulders. "Why didn't you ever think that maybe he loved you?"

"He never said he did," I whispered brokenly. She looked at me questioningly. "Oh, he'd call me 'love,' but that's not nearly the same," I said. "You can call anybody love, it doesn't mean anything."

"Hmm," she looked back toward the building. Her family was attacking an infuriated George at the moment, and she had slipped off to see how her friend was doing. A few moments later, An extremely irate Fred came storming out of the station, got into a car, and drove away, muttering and cursing.

"I should go," I said quietly, wiping at my face. "I'd like to have a chance to talk to you, Ginny."

"That'd be nice. You go rest," she said, giving me a hug and darting back into the station to lay into her brother.


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry, this is a super short chapter. Trust me, there are some really long ones though.

I sat in my room in the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for George to arrive. He was coming over to discuss the girls. We were going to decide how and when to tell them that he was their father. He also just wanted to know about his daughters.

There was a knock on the door and I stood slowly, aching from a grueling practice, and walked over to open it. George was standing just outside of it; looking fabulous as always, and I stepped aside to let him enter.

"Hello," he said as he sat in an armchair.

"Hi," I answered, sitting across from him. "What would you like to know first?" I asked quietly.

"When's their birthday?" He asked hoarsely.

"February 14," I answered softly.

"Valentine's day. You were still only seventeen. They were born less than a week before Ginny's wedding?" he asked, looking amazed.

"Yeah," I said with a slight smile. "Gianna was first," I added. "Adele came about two hours later." He nodded.

"Tell me about each of them," he demanded suddenly, lifting his gaze to mine.

"Adele is a quiet, sweet girl. Oh, her full name is Adele Louise Calavierres. She loves to read anything she can get her hands on, she's a lot like me in that respect. Adele's afraid of spiders. She has an amazing retention rate for information, I think she remembers almost everything she's ever learned. She hates onions, Brussels sprouts, and pudding. Actually, they both hate almost all English cuisine, sorry about that," I smiled weakly and he nodded, a faint smile touching his lips as well. "Hmm, Adele has this amazing capacity to feel and express emotions, and she's very easily hurt by petty insults or teases. She's a shy, timid, girl, and she has a great business sense." He smiled and nodded.

"And Gianna?" He asked quietly, watching me as I spoke.

"Gianna Molly Calavierres is yours. You should have been the one to get to raise her," I said, staring at him. "She's so much like you," I felt tears gather in my eyes. "For the first couple of years I couldn't spend much time with her. It hurt too much. She's carefree, spirited, wild, she's not afraid of anything. She loves to pull pranks; she's smart, but hates books and studying. She's recently started trying to invent her own prank items, and she's really not bad. She's got this insane irreverence for the rules, and hates boundaries. She never crosses the line, but she loves to push and push until you want to scream. Everything about her just screams you," I said, my voice catching. I started to cry. "And they're both beaters!" I wailed, burying my face in my hands.

At this, George burst out laughing.

"What?" I sniffled, looking up at him.

"You!" He exclaimed. "'And they both beaters, waaahhh!' As if that's the worst thing in the whole world."

"It is when you're a professional seeker!" I cried, smacking the arm of my chair.

"Oh, sweetheart, you don't seem to remember do you?" he asked with a grin. "Fred and I got several offers to play professionally."

"Oh, yeah," I said, wiping my nose with the sleeve of my robe.

"Hmm, I've missed you Annabelle," he said suddenly, staring at me. "I missed you every day."

I stared at him, my breathing come very slowly. He stood up and walked over to where I sat. He pulled me to my feet, and laughed suddenly.

"You're so small," he said quietly. "You've always been small, I'd just forgotten how much so." He looked down at me. "I always loved how you could make me feel so big and powerful and protective."

My eyes were wide now, and I was staring at him. I felt hope blossoming through my body.

"George," I whispered. He looked at me, and waited for me to say more. "I always loved you," I said quietly, staring up at him. "Even when I was alone with two babies and a professional Quidditch career, I still loved you. I've loved you everyday since the moment I met you," I whispered quietly. "I'm going to love you until the day that I die."

He was staring at me, and I didn't know what he was feeling or thinking. Without warning, his arms wrapped around me and he pulled me fully against him, his lips crashing down on mine. I felt tears slide down my cheeks. This was what had been missing form the last eleven years of my life. My arms wrapped around him, trying to pull him closer. I wanted him to be as close to me as was humanly possible. His hands were buried in my hair, and he was devouring my face with his lips. I could hardly think, I pressed myself against him as tightly as I could.

"I love you, Annabelle, I always have," he whispered as he trailed kisses down my neck. I moaned harshly, and made no move to stop him as he removed my robe.

His hands roamed freely over my bared skin. I still wore my undergarments, but that was it. He went to pick me up, and I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist.

"Don't you dare drop me," I whispered in reference to one Christmas eve when he had dropped me very loudly on the floor of his flat in surprise when Fred had unexpectedly shown up.

He chuckled appreciatively and set me on the bed. I scooted to the edge and pulled him closely against me, he was trying to toe off his shoes and I was working quickly on undoing the buttons of his shirt. In moments he was lying beside me wearing as little as I was, if not less. I giggled and let him take charge. After all, George always liked to be in charge.


	7. Chapter 7

I opened one bleary eye as the pounding on the door continued. I groaned and sat up, shocked for a moment to see George lying in my bed.

"Damn you and your deep sleep, George," I muttered. I grinned and started to move to the end of the bed when the door was simply pushed open.

Reflexively I pulled the blanket up to my chest, covering myself when I saw who stood in the doorway. Ginny and Fred were staring in shock, while my brother, Paul, was looking utterly confused and a little upset. Fred's face cracked into a malicious grin, and he snuck silently over to the edge of the bed beside George. Ginny smiled broadly and rushed over to hug me tightly. Paul simply walked in and lifted a brow as he sank into one of the chairs. I looked over just as Fred smacked George across the face, causing George to jerk up right with a shout and swinging at his brother.

"Annabelle, maybe you and your guest should get dressed," Paul suggested, as he glanced over at George who was trying to salvage some dignity as he wrapped one of the blankets around his waist. Fred was sitting on the floor laughing hysterically while holding his nose, presumably trying to halt the bleeding.

"Paul, perhaps you should hand me my robe," I snapped, looking pointedly at the floor in front of him where my robe was lying from the night before.

Ginny suddenly started giggling like mad as she picked up the torn remains of my undergarments. I flushed deeply, and Paul lifted his brows as he handed me my robe.

"Had a little fun, did we?" Paul teased, before turning to face George. "Paul Calavierres, pleasure to meet you."

"George Weasley," He replied, offering his hand.

Paul's eyes suddenly flashed, and he punched George squarely in the nose. I laughed loudly, holding my robe in my hand still. Paul advanced malevolently on George, until Fred stood up, looking very serious.

"What is with everyone today?" I asked, a broad smile on my face. "Ginny, maybe we should punch eachother so we don't feel left out!" I cried, and we both burst into giggles.

"I'm going to go shower," George muttered, before he leaned over to kiss me. I nodded and watched him walk into the bathroom.

"All right, would y'all mind turning around so I can put this robe on?" I asked, smiling sweetly. Everyone obliged and I quickly yanked the robe on, tying it snugly around my waist. "All right, you can turn back around."

"So, had a lovely night, Annabelle?" Fred asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively once we heard the water start running.

"Naturally," I replied, climbing out of the bed and walking to one of the bed tables where several letters were lying unopened. "What're y'all doing here?" I asked as I flipped through the letters.

"Well, we wanted to come by and make sure that George hadn't killed you since Fred never heard back from him last night. And we wanted to make sure that you were going to bring the girls and your family over to the Burrow for Christmas," Ginny told me. "Paul already said that he and his wife and kids would come with you."

I smiled warmly at my brother. "Thanks Paul, you're wonderful. What about Elizabeth and Jamison?" I asked, referring to my twin sister and our younger brother.

"I assume that if you and I are going, everyone else will follow," he replied, waving his hand. "They've always catered to us. Besides, I doubt Liz would pass up the opportunity to see her twin sister."

"Twin sister?" Fred asked curiously.

"Oh, yeah, not identical like you two," I replied, setting the letters from the girls on the bed and dumping the others back on the table. "Liz is this tall willowy redhead. She got married…six years ago. She has five kids and she's expecting two more in February," I added, glancing anxiously at the bathroom.

"Are you going to open those letters, Annabelle?" Ginny asked pointedly.

"Not until George gets back out here," I replied, looking over at her. "They're from the girls."

Ginny nodded, and Fred stretched out on the floor.

"So those bruises from Quidditch practice yesterday, or are they souvenirs from last night?" Paul asked bluntly. I shrugged not really bothering to look.

"Probably both," I replied, tapping the letters against my hand. The water had stopped running, so I assumed that George would be out soon. "Look, I fully plan on being at the Burrow with my girls for Christmas, so if that's all…" I trailed off, looking at them. Ginny grinned and Paul frowned in a brotherly fashion.

"Aww, we don't get to hear what the girls wrote?" Fred asked with a pout.

"I really think that the first time George gets to read letters from his daughters should not be with family members watching his every reaction," I said quietly. "I may have made a mistake eleven years ago, but I'd like to be able to start making up for it," I added, looking up at the three of them.

"Of course, Anna, we'll see you this evening for dinner, perhaps?" Paul said, standing up.

"Certainly. Is Brigitte cooking?" I asked hopefully.

"Naturally. How does seven sound?"

"Fabulous. Thanks guys, I'll set up some lunches or whatever with the rest of your family, Ginny," I added, looking over at her. She nodded, and everyone left fairly quickly. Once the door closed, I snuck over and turned the bolt, locking them out.

George walked out of the bathroom a few moments later, clothed and cleaned. I smiled and walked over to meet him. He gave me a kiss, and began looking for his shoes. I sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Are you going right away?" I asked quietly. He looked up at me from where he was reaching under the bed for his shoe.

"I have to get back to the shop in Hogsmeade," he answered, fishing out the other shoe. "Why?"

"Oh, I just have letters from Gianna and Adele," I answered, and he literally dove for them, but I jerked them out of reach at the last moment. "Adele's always has to be read first," I explained calmly. "She always explains everything that went on, so that Gianna's letter makes sense."

He laughed loudly and sat beside me as I opened Adele's letter. I began to read:

'Hey Momma!

'This place is amazing. Why didn't you tell us about the sorting ceremony? It was really cool…except…Gianna's in Gryffindor,'

"YES!" George shouted, doing a little dance, and I snickered.

'And I'm in Ravenclaw--just like you! Gianna said that the hat wouldn't dream of putting a troublemaking Weasley like her anywhere except Gryffindor. What does that mean? We're Calavierres', so why would the hat call her a Weasley? Who are the Weasleys? I'm so excited, momma!

'Oh, and Gianna kinda got in a little trouble…she kinda got some of the older kids in all the houses to set off a whole bunch of fireworks right at the end of Professor Dumbledore's speech, and one of them ratted her out. It was an amazing light show…they were those Weasley ones, you know? So they were flying all over the castle afterward, and everyone was laughing. It was awesome, but now she has detentions with Mr.…Filch? Yeah, him. Anyway, I miss you a lot, and I can't wait to see you at Christmas! Love always, Adele.'

I laughed and looked at George, who was looking extremely proud, and kissed me firmly.

"That's my girl!" he cried, obviously pleased that Gianna had taken up where he left off. "I wish I'd seen it. Fred and I never bothered to try to bring other houses in on pranking the staff. That's bloody brilliant!"

"Wait, here's Gianna's letter," I said, opening her letter.

'Momma!

'Adele and I are in different houses! It sucks! I hate it! I don't have any accomplices that are trustworthy. Ugh, and I have this ridiculous caretaker out to get me, I don't like him. Who the hell are the Weasley's, and how am I one? Was dad a Weasley? Whatever, explain it all to Adele, I don't ever understand anyway. Don't send me a Howler, I'm getting punished enough. I gotta go; I have some plans to start working on, bye, Momma!

'Ticklishly yours, Gianna.'

I laughed and shook my head. George looked completely befuddled and glanced up at me for clarification.

"Gianna never likes taking time to write coherent letters, so she just scribbles down notes and then sends them, trusting that Adele is going to fill in all of the information so that you actually know what's going on," I told him, with a smile. I sighed deeply.

"Oh…I see," he replied, taking the letters out of my hands. "Do you mind if I have these?" he asked, looking at me hopefully.

"Of course you can have them, George," I whispered, looking at my hands. "You deserved every bit of the girls that you can get. I know I made a mistake eleven years ago, but I'd like to try to fix it," I said quietly, turning to look up at him. "Please let me try to make it up to you."

"Annabelle, I love you, but I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you for what you've taken from me by keeping those girls a secret," he said quietly.

"I know."

He looked at me, and kissed me once more before walking out of the room. I stood up to go take a shower.


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry this is such a short chapter. There are some REALLY long ones though, so it kinda evens out...

I flopped heavily onto my bed, kicking my shoes off. I didn't bother to notice the fact that several candles in the room were lit. I sat up and began to unbutton my shirt, leaving my hair piled loosely atop my head.

"You look so beautiful," George whispered from the dimly lit area with the chairs.

My head jerked up at the sound of his voice, and I smiled, feeling my pulse begin to race.

"You're not exactly anything bad to look at yourself," I replied, as he stood up and walked over to me, catching my lips with his. I smiled against his lips, and set my hands on his firm chest. "So, Mr. Weasley, how long are you going to keep staying nights in my hotel room with me?" I inquired, looking up into his eyes.

"I'm not sure," he replied thoughtfully.

"I spoke with Dumbledore today," I said quietly, looking up into George's eyes. He nodded, and I smiled. "He said that we could floo into his office tomorrow afternoon around four and speak to the girls there. He even offered to be conveniently out of the office while we were using it," I informed George.

"That sound fabulous. You can floo from here to my shop tomorrow at about three forty and then we'll be up there at about four," he said, as he leaned in to kiss me.

"George, what am I going to say?" I asked, and his eyes hardened.

"I suppose you could try the truth," he said coolly.

"Yes, I suppose that's best," I sighed, dropping my forehead against his chest.

"Annabelle, if you expect me to make this any easier for you, you've got another thing coming," he told me in a firm tone.

"I know that, George," I returned coolly. "I'm not stupid."

"Of course you're not stupid, you weren't in Ravenclaw for nothing," he said softly. "Sometimes you're just so naïve. Despite everything you've been through, you still have this unusual innocence that makes me feel a need to be explicit about everything."

I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew he was right. I knew it.

"George," I said quietly. "I know you're right…I just…everybody gets so upset with me for what I did, but have you ever thought about what you did to make me think I had to do what I did?" I asked quietly, lifting my face to look at him.

He stared at me blankly.

"Did it ever occur to you that made if you hadn't been so verbal about not ever wanting to get married, and never wanted to have kids, I wouldn't have run away?" I asked softly. He was clearly processing this. "Did you ever think about the fact that all I had ever really planned to do was play professional Quidditch after Hogwarts? Or the fact that I wasn't the kind of person who would not have the baby? That my first chocie was of course to have you be involved in raising the girls, because it meant that I would actually get to sleep occasionally, or that I might not have had to spend every single second of my life trying to take care of two babies while earning a living? Have you stopped to think about the impact that this has had on the girls and their development?" There were tears in my eyes.

"Anna, if you had just told me," he said quietly.

"I know that now!" I shouted, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Yes, love, I know that I'm not the only victim," he said quietly, pulling me tightly to his chest. "I know that, I've thought about that, I realize that. I, however, am the only one who knew nothing."

I nodded against his chest.

"It seems like _you_ didn't want me to be involved," George told me gently.

I started crying.

"George, I wanted you there the whole time!" I choked out. "Ask my parents, ask Paul! At the hospital, all I wanted was for you to be there, but I couldn't very well tell my mom to get you! I needed you the whole time! Why didn't you come after me!" I demanded, pounding a fist on his chest.

"Oh, Annabelle, sweetie, love, don't cry," he murmured, rocking me gently. I pulled him to me as tightly as I could. His arms were like iron bands wrapped around me, holding me to him tighter than I could have ever hoped for.

"Love me," I whispered, shivering into him. "Please, just don't stop loving me," I begged, my wet cheek pressed against the firm muscle of his chest.

"Never," he promised, kissing the top of my head. "I couldn't even when I wanted to."

He sank to the floor, cradling me in his arms, and holding me tightly. I continued to hold him.


	9. Chapter 9

Ok, this is a massively long chapter, and it's kinda boring, so I'm sorry...

I sat nervously in Dumbledore's office, waiting for Gianna and Adele to arrive from their classes. George was fiddling with numerous instruments sitting in the Headmaster's office, clearly trying to occupy himself. The door opened, and I looked over at the faces of my girls.

"Momma!" Adele cried, running over to fling herself into my arms. I held her tightly, laughing at Gianna who looked horrified.

"What did Gianna do, Momma?" Adele asked with a giggle.

I laughed warmly, and I heard George try not to snicker.

"Gianna didn't do anything—that I know of," I replied, casting a stern glance at Gianna. She blushed and looked away.

"So why are you here then?" Gianna asked, flopping into a chair and fiddling with the instruments on the table nearest to her. I smiled weakly.

"Well, you girls know how the sorting hat made that comment about Weasleys," I began, glancing over nervously at George, who was watching me impassively. "Gianna was right. Your dad is George Weasley," I gestured to George, and the girls both swiveled their heads to stare at him. "He and his twin brother, Fred, were pretty famous when they went to school here for pulling pranks," I added with a warm smile.

"You're our dad," Gianna stated, looking at him through narrowed eyes from her chair. "You're the one who gave us that stuff from the joke shop."

"Yes," he said hoarsely, looking at the two girls.

"So how come we've never met you before?" Adele asked in a frigid tone.

"Because I didn't tell him about you girls," I said quietly. Gianna looked at me with rage blazing on her beautiful face.

"You decided that we didn't get to have a father?" she shouted. "Maybe I wanted a father! Who said you got to decide?" She was hurling George's earlier words at me. "I hate you!"

Gianna looked once more at George, who smiled weakly, and she ran off, slamming the door behind her.

"This is your fault," Adele said coolly to George, and he looked at her in surprise. "You must have done something to make Momma think she couldn't tell you. I don't particularly like you," she declared loftily, lifted her chin, and swept regally out of the room.

"Hmm…you were right, of course," he said, smiling faintly. "Gianna is just like me, and Adele could be a younger version of yourself."

I laughed weakly, trying to wipe away my tears.

"Neither of them have ever said things like that before," I said quietly, staring at the door. "Maybe I should go after them."

"They'll write you a letter when they're ready to talk," he said calmly, shrugging. "Probably demanding that you come back here again. Gianna's going to be very angry with you for a while," he grinned at me.

"I don't know how long Adele is going to take to warm up to you," I shot back, standing up abruptly. "I'm going back to the Leaky Cauldron."

"Wait, Anna," he said quietly, pulling me into his arms. "I think we should tell them soon about what's been going on."

"Excuse me?" I looked at him in horror. "I'm not telling my daughters that we are sleeping together." My tone was frosty.

"Are you two quite finished?" Dumbledore asked form the doorway, a twinkle in his eye.

A blazing blush began to creep up into my cheeks, and I pushed my long, wavy brown hair behind my shoulders. George merely met Dumblodore's gaze with one of his own.

"You know, Headmaster, Gianna is going to be even worse than Fred and I were," George commented with a straight face.

"Oh yes, I know," he returned, grinning broadly. "But thirteen years is too long for this school to be without a prankster."

I laughed and George walked into the fireplace still holding me tightly in his arms. I struggled briefly against him when he reached for some floo powder, but gave up when it became apparent I wasn't going to be successful in freeing myself.

I looked around my new flat nervously. It was two floors, and had warm oak floors. The walls were all painted in warm taupe and beige. I had purchased all of my furniture in Muggle shops, and had chosen a black leather finish for all of the furniture. I still had a preference for living like a Muggle, after having grown up in Colorado. My mother was a Muggle from Aspen, and very rich on her own, and Daddy was a Wizard from France and also very wealthy. I had grown up accustomed to privilege. I not only had money from my family, but also from playing Quidditch. Professional Quidditch players made money almost equivalent to what Muggle Sports players made.

In mere moments, the girls would be arriving in my flat via floo to celebrate Thanksgiving. After speaking with the Headmaster, he had agreed that it was important for the girls to continue with their American customs while adopting more British customs.

George was in the kitchen with his mother, speaking quietly, and they immediately changed the subject anytime that I walked in. As a result, I had taken to giving everything another quick cleaning, and I had decorated two rooms on the lower level for the girls. My suite was upstairs and it had a bedroom, a sitting room, and an amazing bathroom. When I had first acquired the flat, George had originally only stayed one, maybe two nights a week, but after almost a month and a half, he was going to his flat only one or two nights a week.

"Anna," George called from the kitchen. I rushed through the doors, glancing nervously at the fireplace, which was now blazing with green flames.

Gianna came tumbling out, a broad smile plastered on her face. Molly stared at Gianna, her eyes drinking in every aspect of Gianna's face. Molly looked close to tears when Adele stepped out of the flames, dusting her robes off carefully.

"Hello girls," I said, smiling broadly.

"Hello, Mother," Gianna said coolly, crossing her arms and looking away almost at once.

"Momma," Adele cried, launching herself into my arms. I held Adele tightly, trying not to be too upset about Gianna's behavior. I glanced over to see her embrace George suddenly.

He looked as if he were about to begin crying as well, as he wrapped his arms around his daughter, and his eyes met mine. Molly was in tears now, looking at her granddaughters.

"Adele, Gianna, this is your grandmother, Molly Weasley," I said, gesturing to George's mother.

Adele walked over to her, and smiled warmly. My girls had grown a lot since leaving for school, and bother were only an inch or so shorter than I was. Molly began sobbing loudly and pulled both girls into her arms, squeezing them tightly. I smiled, and leaned against George, who reflexively wrapped and arm around my waist, watching as our daughters began chatting about anything and everything with their grandmother.

"Does daddy really have a twin too? Momma's twin doesn't look like her though," Gianna questioned eagerly.

"Yes, George's twin brother is Fred, and they're as much alike as you two," Molly sad with a warm smile.

"Are Momma and Dad living together now?" Adele asked bluntly, turning her canny gaze upon us. I flushed a pale pink color, and George seemed completely unfazed.

"I believe that is where I shoo the four of you into the living room so that I can finish making dinner," Molly said, nodding toward the door.

Adele sighed and breezed out of the kitchen, Gianna following her. I pushed the door open, and stepped out to see them both looking around in appreciation.

"Quite a bit smaller than the Vail home, momma," Gianna sneered, flopping into one of the black chairs. My fists clenched slightly. I had never hit either of my girls, but Gianna was pushing me dangerously close.

"I rather like it, Gianna," Adele replied, looking up at some of the pictures on the mantle. There were a couple of pictures of George and I from when I was still at Hogwarts, and a few of the girls as well.

"My, my, Adele, how your standards have dropped," Gianna snarled.

"I think that's quite enough," George said in a firm tone, and both girls turned to stare at him incredulously. "This is really a very nice flat, and you do have several other homes. There is absolutely no reason that your mother should have purchased another even larger home than the others she owns."

I watched as Adele walked over and looked up at her father, her eyes narrowed slightly. She was very good at reading people.

"Do you love Momma?" she asked calmly.

"Yes I do love your mother," he replied, meeting her gaze evenly.

"And do you love dad, mom?" Gianna demanded, staring at me steadily.

"Of course," I replied in a soft voice.

"So are you living together?" Gianna asked slyly. Adele's gaze was flicking between George and myself.

"Yes," George said simply, taking a seat on one of my couches. I continued to stand nervously.

"Are you going to get married?" Adele asked hopefully.

I stared at her blankly.

"We haven't discussed that," George smoothly interjected. "Why don't you girls go look at your new rooms?" he suggested, tilting his head to the hallway that would lead them to their new bedrooms. Both girls walked off, and I waited until they were out of view before I turned my attention to George.

I sighed heavily and dropped into the chair vacated by Gianna. George quirked an eyebrow at me, and I smiled softly before getting up and walking over to sit beside him. He draped an arm around me, holding me close.

"Are they always that taciturn?" he asked jokingly, as his hand ran up and down my side.

"Naturally," I replied with a short laugh. "Look at their parents!"

He laughed heartily, and lifted my face o he could look me in the eye.

"You know that I meant what I told Adele, don't you?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, I know, George," I snapped, jerking my gaze away from his. "It's nothing but the truth, after all."

"Anna," he said and waited until I looked back at him again. "It is something that I do want to discuss with you at some point. Marriage is something that I need to speak with you about." I nodded, and turned my gaze to the floor.

"Later," I said in a quiet tone.

"Of course," he replied, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.

I lifted my face to his, and met his lips with my own, smiling slightly. I was careful to avoid anything more than a simple kiss with the girls in the house and the two of us sitting in the middle of the living room. It wasn't as if we hadn't already done a little more than kiss in this room, but it was hardly appropriate for our daughters to walk in on us.

"Our daughters have apparently finished with their rooms," George added, squeezing me gently before standing up and leaving me alone on the couch.

I looked over at the girls, who had clearly been watching us for a few moments. I smiled warmly and patted the seat next to me. Adele ran over and sat beside me. Gianna and George were seated on the floor at the coffee table, discussing pranks of some sort. The evening passed rather pleasantly, and by the time the girls went to bed, Gianna was talking to me again, and Adele had warmed up to George very nicely. Molly waked out of the kitchen to say goodnight, before flooing back to the Burrow, where presumably she would be telling everyone about the girls.

George waited until he heard the roar of flames in the kitchen before he dragged me into his arms, kissing me soundly.

"You know love, there are two ten-year-old girls just down the hall," I murmured against his lips, with a smile.

"Hmm," he affirmed, continuing to ravage my lips. "Perhaps we should continue this upstairs," he commented dryly, sweeping me into his arms and walking up the stairs fairly quickly.

Once in my rooms, he pushed the door shut and set me on my feet. I looked up at him curiously, and he smiled before walking over to sit on one of the couches that faced the fireplace. I smiled and walked over to him. He looked up and took my hand, lifting it to his lips. I smiled and straddled his lap, and rested my forehead on his chest.

"As much as I would enjoy a good bout of sex, I don't think it's the best idea with our daughters staying in the same house as both of us for the first time," I said quietly, as his hands began to run over my slim form. He fiddled momentarily with the hem of my sweater, and lifted my chin.

"Good thing you're wearing a jumper. Can't feel much of anything through one of those," he teased, kissing the tip of my nose. "You're right of course."

I smiled and moved to stand up only to find that he was having none of that.

"George," I said warningly, and he grinned broadly.

"Annabelle," he mocked, kissing me soundly. "While I agree that a shag is perhaps not the best idea," he murmured as he nuzzled the side of my neck, "I don't think a proper snog would be out of line either."

"Maybe you're right," I murmured, as my lips found his.


	10. Chapter 10

"George, come on, we have to go get the girls," I said urgently, as he continued to sip coffee at the table, looking at my Wall Street Journal with interest.

"What are these 'stocks,' love?" he asked, as he scanned the second page.

"There isn't time for this!" I cried, snatching the paper from the table and pulling the coffee mug out of his hand.

"For the love of God, Woman!" George roared, trying to grab his coffee cup back. "I was still drinking that, Annabelle Calavierres," he said murderously.

"And now you're finished," I replied sweetly, leaning up to kiss the bottom of his jaw. "Come now, you don't want to miss the girls, do you? They'll be very upset and confused if your family just swoops down upon them and we aren't even there," I added, with a smile.

"Right," he muttered, stomping over to the fireplace. As I walked over, he reached out and jerked me roughly against his chest before throwing down the powder and saying clearly "The Burrow."

"You didn't even let me put on shoes, George," I said crossly when we emerged at his parent's home.

"You didn't let me finish my coffee," he shot back, stepping out of the fireplace with my hand held tightly in his. "Come on."

I sighed and let him pull me into the kitchen, where most of his family was already assembled. Charlie and his family were absent, since he was having a difficult time getting any extra time off. Bill glanced up and turned back to his cereal indifferently. Percy sneered at me, before leaving the room. Fred and Ginny grinned broadly and made space for George and myself between them, while Ron glared at me continuously. Arthur managed to smile at me, and Molly smiled with genuine warmth and welcome. I smiled weakly, and almost fell on my face when George jerked me over to the table beside where he was sitting.

"We don't mind if you join us, Annabelle," Ginny said sweetly and I smiled weakly as three of her brothers turned murderous faces upon her.

"Oh, well, I already ate something," I began, and was cut off by a snort from George. "What is your problem?" I snapped, just realizing that he was still holding my hand in his own.

"Something? Annabelle, you ate enough to feed a small army," he replied, jerking me down onto his lap.

"That's what I always eat. I'm supposed to eat a very specific diet for training purposes," I replied haughtily. "You never said anything before."

Harry looked up with a grin. "I love that. You have to eat amazing meals everyday so that you've got enough energy for practice."

"I never said anything before, because you didn't normally rip the newspaper out of my hands and poor my coffee down the drain," George replied calmly, as he reached for a mug of coffee that his mother set before him. "You lot need to make sure you keep your mugs close to you at all times. If she decides you're not moving quickly enough, Annabelle might just decide that you need a little help," he grumbled.

"Oh please," I snorted, fiddling with the Daily Prophet lying on the table. "It was just coffee, George."

"What?" he roared as he jumped to his feet. I crashed to the floor, and laughter erupted around the table.

"You heard me," I snapped, as I stood up, trying to swipe dust off of my rear. "If anybody needs me, I'll be in the living room."

With that, I strode out of the kitchen, leaving the laughing Weasleys behind me. I flopped rather childishly into an armchair and stared out the window. My parents and siblings were going to be arriving the next morning to spend the Christmas Holiday with the Weasleys. Two days after Christmas, my family was going to be traveling to my father's family estate just outside of Paris, where we would stay until the girls returned to school. I hadn't worked up enough nerve to ask George if he wanted to accompany us, and I was afraid that he would say no.

Suddenly the fireplace roared with blazing green flames. I looked over and shouted with joy as Paul stepped out with Brigitte and their children tumbled out of the fireplace a few seconds later. I leapt on my brother, laughing and hugging him tightly.

"You're early!" I cried, as I moved to embrace Brigitte. She smiled and looked around appraisingly.

The Weasleys were nowhere near as wealthy as our families were. It was apparent in their home, but it was very welcoming and warm despite its lack of sophistication. My nephews, Claude and Raoul, smiled at me, and embraced me tightly. They were both nearly six feet, and very sturdy, muscular boys. Claude was about seventeen, and Raoul would be turning fifteen this year. Both boys attended Beauxbatons Academy in France, and Claude was going to be signing with the French Quidditch team as a Chaser in about four months, which was fitting seeing as his father was an ex-professional chaser.

"We thought that perhaps you could use some friendly faces," Brigitte whispered in my ear. I laughed and turned to see Fred and George standing in the doorway.

"Hello, Fred, George, so very nice to see you again," Paul said, offering his hand. I snickered, and watched as Fred flicked his gaze momentarily to George.

"I say good man, how wonderful to see you too," Fred returned, clasping his hand.

"How absolutely corking to see you!" George added, and my eyes narrowed slightly. Molly walked in, and Fred and George rounded on her.

"Mum! How wonderful to see you!" Fred cried.

"Yes, just spiffing!" George agreed, and they turned to walk back toward the kitchen, and their mocking greetings for each member of their family could be heard.

My jaw clenched and I set my hands on my hips. I felt an insane desire to hex George into next week. Molly shook her head and walked over to greet my brother and his family. I glanced over and Paul, who lifted a brow, and my face split into a wide grin. I nodded once, very slowly and almost imperceptibly. Paul had attended Beauxbatons and as a result was very familiar with several curses and hexes that most British or American wizards had never encountered. I sauntered out of the room, and slowly pulled out my wand, sneaking very quietly into the kitchen where Fred and George were discussing something about the shop. They weren't the most observant I thought, and whispered the incantation.

"Vu de la morte," I hissed, and quite suddenly Fred and George both stood perfectly still staring around the room at the hordes of dead individuals that only they could see.

"George, did we miss something?" Fred asked carefully.

"ANNABELLE!" George roared, pounding his fist on the table. I jumped slightly and stepped into view. "You undo this right now," he said, gesturing around the room.

"Undo what?" I asked, and realized, too late, that I still held my wand in my hand.

"Whatever ridiculous hex you put on Fred and myself," George said very coolly.

I smiled sweetly and waved my hand through the air, and they both sighed, no longer seeing anything out of the ordinary. As I turned to flounce out of the room, George grabbed my wrist.

"That was not nice, Annabelle," he said in a low tone, and Fred sniggered before walking out of the kitchen.

"Oh, well, I assumed that being nice wasn't a requirement in your house," I responded icily. "You weren't exactly nice to my brother just now."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes before dropping my wrist.

"Yes, yes, I know," he muttered.

"Annabelle, George, it's time to head over to the station!" Molly called loudly.

"Coming!" George bellowed back.

Once again I turned to walk out the door and shrieked loudly as George slung me over his shoulder much like a sack of potatoes. The entire house began to laugh uproariously when George walked in, carrying me like a sack of potatoes.

"I done caught me a woman," he said with a horrible imitation of a southern drawl. Everyone laughed even harder, and I smacked him smartly on the ass. "Careful, Anna, you're at the definite disadvantage," he warned.

It was going to be a long day.


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry guys, this is a wicked short chapter, but Twelve has about 2,900 words...so that's fair, right?

Adele and Gianna ran up to me, both hugging me tightly. I laughed and kissed each of their foreheads, noticing that they had grown another inch in the month since I had last seen them. It was becoming apparent that they had inherited the Weasley genes for height. Gianna broke away to hug George, and Adele smiled at him warmly, walking over to hug him very quickly. Paul cleared his throat from my right, and Adele looked over to see her uncle standing there.

"PAUL!" Adele screamed, launching herself into his arms and holding on tightly.

"PAUL!" Fred imitated, jumping on my brother. Paul looked positively disgusted and quite violated. I laughed loudly, and Gianna looked at Fred for a moment.

"Hey Uncle Paul," Gianna said flashing my brother a warm smile, before turning to Fred. "You are obviously Fred," she said, grinning at George's brother. Fred nodded, smiling warmly. "Come here, gimme a hug," she laughed, wrapping her arms around him.

Fred's eyes quite suddenly widened to the size of saucers, and he began struggling to get away. When Gianna stepped back, the words, "Gianna Calavierres is my niece" were emblazoned on the front of his shirt. George started laughing and I sniggered, pulling Gianna away from Fred.

"This is my favorite shirt!" Fred cried, and his wife, Angelina, glanced over.

"Fred Weasley, get over here and greet your daughters!" Angelina commanded loudly.

He turned and ran over to where his wife stood with his two eldest, Whitney who was 14, and Victoria who was 12. I smiled as he pulled the girls up into a tight hug, both of them squealing affectionately. Hermione was bawling over her son, and Ron looked somewhat embarrassed by her behavior.

"Momma, are Nan and Gramps here yet?" Adele asked, as she struggled to force her trunk onto a trolley. George walked over and pulled it up easily with one arm and set it on top of her sister's trunk.

"Not yet, sweetheart, tomorrow morning," I replied, grabbing hold of the trolley and pulling it through the barrier.

"Comment tu aimes l'ecole?" Paul asked Adele casually.

"Oh, j'aime beaucoup! C'est encroyable!" She replied, and they began a rapid conversation in French. George was staring at her in awe, and at the sound of spoken French, Hermione drifted over and eventually became involved in the conversation as well.

"Ou est Brigitte?" Gianna asked bluntly, looking over at Paul.

"Elle est chez Molly," Paul replied offhandedly.

I smiled and was feeling quite content when out of the blue, George wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted me off of the ground. He set me on the trunks on the trolley, and I glared at him. He smiled cockily and began to push the trolley himself. I crossed my arms and sniffed.

"Madam, we're fresh out of horse drawn carriages," he said to me in a ridiculous French accent. I looked at him with one brow lifted.

"Ecusez-moi, George, mais tu as un mauvais accent," I told him in flawless French, before returning to my previous statue of disdain.

"George," I whispered, as he began unbuttoning my shirt.

"Hmm?" He seemed utterly engaged in removing my clothing.

"This is your parents house," I whispered, as he pressed his lips to the exposed skin of my chest.

"Yes, I know," he answered, sliding his hands around my waist.

"But--" I began, and he cut me off by kissing me deeply.

"Anna, first, my parents know full well that we live together," he began, as his fingers fiddled with the clasp on my bra. "Secondly, everyone in this house knows that we have two children together. Thirdly, this room has four different silencing charms and a superior locking charm on it. Fourthly, if we decide not to do this now, we're not going to for at least a month, and frankly, I don't think I want to be that long without you," he told me, as he unclasped my bra. I shrugged delicately, not really thinking about the fact that I was now completely topless.

"Are you sure nobody's going to hear or walk in on us?" I asked, as he slid his fingers down to the clasp of my pants.

"Positive," he answered, catching my lips once again with his.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Molly watched as George's hand on the clock moved from "in bed" to "making mischief." She snickered and began to imagine just how adorable George's and Annabelle's babies would be.


	12. Chapter 12

I stretched slowly, feeling deliciously sore and swollen. George had one arm wrapped firmly around my waist, holding me tightly against his chest. This was a very common occurrence, and I rather liked the fact that he wanted to keep me so close to him. With a warm smile, I leaned down and kissed George very deeply. His hands slid up and rested on my back. I smiled against his lips and looked down to see his eyes wide open, and a devilish grin creasing his features.

"What time is it?" he asked, stretching briefly. He stood and walked over to the trunk he had brought with him. I shrugged and lifted my arms over my head, groaning as the muscles in my back stretched.

"Are those my fault?" George asked, staring at some bruises on my hips.

"Hmm?" I glanced down, as he walked back over, and sat in front of me. "Oh, yeah, that's you," I replied, leaning forward to kiss him again. He stopped me, by catching my face in his hand.

"Do I always do that to you?" he asked quietly, looking me in the eye.

"Not always," I replied, feeling slightly confused.

"But normally," he finished, still looking at me.

"Yes, I suppose that's accurate," I snapped, jerking my head back so that his hand fell to the bed beside him.

"Why haven't I ever seen them before?" he asked.

"Because I usually just heal them with a few quick spells!" I snapped, scrambling out of the bed, and stomping over to where my wand was lying on the top of a dresser.

"Annabelle, don't be angry with me," he said quietly. "I just didn't realize that I was hurting you."

"You're not hurting me, George," I told him, as I waved my wand a few times and the bruises were gone. I began walking over toward him. "Believe me, if I felt any pain you would know it," I added. He grinned suddenly, remembering how I screamed about anything even remotely painful, from stubbed toes to bumped knuckles.

"All right," he murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me down to sit on his lap.

He kissed me warmly, and I smiled as I slid my hands into his hair. Neither of us noticed the knocking on the door.

"Jesus, dad, you could open the damn door," Gianna grumbled, as she shoved the door open and stopped short, her mouth hanging open. George and I sat frozen in place, neither of us had any idea what we were supposed to do in a situation like this.

"Gianna," Adele called from down the hallway. "Are they coming?"

"Uhh, yeah," Gianna called back, slowly backing out the door and yanking it shut loudly, before scampering down the hall in the direction from which Adele's voice had drifted. I turned my shocked gaze to George's face, and he looked at me, just as shocked.

"Didn't you say you locked the door?" I asked quietly, looking up at him with angry eyes.

"Yes," I replied slowly, his eyes narrowing.

"Nice job!" I snapped, standing up and grabbing my clothes roughly from all over the floor of the room.

I jerked running clothes and shoes out of my trunk, while George pulled on a pair of jeans.

"What charm did you use, anyhow?" I asked, glancing up at him. He looked at me and frowned.

"Actually, it's a combination of three or four other locking charms that Fred and I combined. Mum couldn't even break it…" he trailed off and like a streak was out and racing down the stairs.

"FRED, YOU BETTER RUN!" I heard Ginny shriek.

I snickered and got dressed quickly, pulling my hair up and tying my shoes. I fully intended to go out for at least four or five miles that morning. I entered the kitchen to find George straddling his brother's chest and punching him squarely in the nose. I sighed and walked over to the cupboard for a coffee mug, and poured some of the strong, dark tea into the mug. I noticed the rest of my family sitting in the kitchen, all looking exceptionally at ease, except for father.

"Bon matin, Annabelle," my father, Pierre Calavierres, said, looking at me. "Ou es ton vetements?" he asked coolly. I laughed warmly.

"I'm going out running, Papa," I replied.

George stood up, breathing a little more heavily than normal, and glared down at his brother who was now sporting two black eyes, a broken nose, and several missing teeth in addition to bruises scattered about on the rest of his body. Molly was busy fussing over him, while Angelina sat in her chair chuckling over her husband's predicament. George had several bruises already becoming visible on his back and a particularly nasty one on his jaw.

I sighed as he walked over to where I stood, and handed him the cup of tea that I had poured for him. I hated tea. He glanced at the cup and set it on the counter, before pulling me roughly into his arms and kissing my soundly. I stared at him when he released me and watched his every movement as he pulled out a chair at the table and sat with his coffee. Ginny quickly engaged George in some silly discussion and he participated animatedly while breakfasting.

My sister walked over and leaned against the counter beside me, sipping a cup of coffee. I smiled and glanced up at her beautiful features.

"So, Annabelle, is it always this…violent in the morning here?" She asked calmly, taking another sip of her coffee. I laughed.

"Yes, pretty much," I answered, looking over the crowd in the kitchen. "How is Aaron enjoying NYCG?" I asked, glancing at her eleven-year-old son.

"Hmm, he's not enjoying the other students much. I'm trying to find an appropriate institution closer to home," she replied.

"Well, I'm going out for a run," I announced, pushing away from the counter. "Anyone care to join me?" I asked sweetly.

George snorted into his breakfast and Ginny snickered. Harry, however, looked up from where he was sitting sipping coffee.

"I haven't eaten yet, I'll go," harry volunteered, standing up quickly, and racing upstairs to change.

"Does he usually run?" George asked Ginny in a whisper.

"Yeah, why?" she whispered back.

"Annabelle ran in some thing called the Boston Marathon last summer," he replied. Ginny's eyes widened and she looked at me.

"You ran for twenty-six miles without stopping?" she asked incredulously.

"It's not all that difficult," I answered as Harry bounded back in. "Think you can keep up, Potter?" I asked, quirking a brow.

"I'm going to try," he replied as he finished tying his sneaker.

"What kind of sneaks are you wearing?" I asked, looking at them reverently.

"Huh?" Everyone British in the room stared at me like I was crazy.

"His trainers," Adele clarified.

I blushed and shrugged. Harry laughed and walked over to the door. I walked over, quirked a brow, and took off like a shot.

"Shit!" I heard him shout and take off to catch me.

I laughed and set a fairly difficult pace, and Harry kept up pretty well. Occasionally he would fall back for a few moments and then sprint back up to me before leveling his pace back out. It was very nice to run out here since there was so little out here.

One hour, forty-five minutes, and fifteen miles later, I walked in winded and feeling exhausted. Harry dragged himself in, and clutched the doorframe.

"I think I'm dying," he said, collapsing into a chair. "Quick, go get Ginny, I want her to be with me as I die."

I laughed and Molly rushed over with a glass of water.

"Drink it slowly, Harry," I said, as he grabbed the glass. He didn't bother to listen to me and knocked it back immediately. I smirked as he puked. Molly turned to look at me, obviously trying not to laugh. "I told you."

He sneered and got another glass before trudging upstairs. With a snort of laughter, I got down a glass and took a sip of the cool water, before resuming my seat at the table.

"So, Annabelle, what were you planning on doing today?" Ginny asked as she walked into the kitchen and sat beside me. Molly set a plate with eggs, toast, and bacon in front of me.

"Hmm, I didn't really have any plans," I answered, as I took a bite of toast.

"Fred, Bill, and I were thinking it might be kinda fun to play some Quidditch," she suggested with twinkling eyes. I grinned broadly.

"Ok, but these are the teams I want," I told her. "I want Fred and George as beaters; Bill, You, Angelina as chasers; Harry as seeker; and Ron as keeper to play against Adele and Gianna as Beaters; Paul, Claude, and Raoul as chasers; Brigitte as Keeper; and myself as seeker." She thought for a moment before grinning broadly and running to discuss this with all of the parties mentioned.

My family was far more reckless about flying than most of the Weasleys, and it would be easy for us to beat them simple because of that fact. Actually, our amazing, yet reckless, flying was what got us signed to teams.

"Those poor unfortunate souls," I murmured, with an evil grin as I took a bite of eggs. Molly looked at me and smiled.

"I realize that you have three professional players on your team, four if you include Claude, but you'll be evenly matched," Molly told me in a calm tone.

"They all agreed!" Ginny shouted as she ran into the kitchen where I was still working n my breakfast.

"Sweet!" I shouted, jumping to my feet and forgetting about finishing my breakfast entirely. "Get the brooms!" I cried as I ran up to the room I was sleeping in and grabbed my broom running back outside.

I found that Harry, Bill, Fred, George, Paul, Claude, and Brigitte were already outside. I grinned broadly and ran down to where some of my teammates were already standing. In mere moments Adele, Gianna, and Raoul also ran out and down to meet us. All of both teams were now assembled, and I glanced over at Ginny's team, feeling a little nervous.

"Do you all remember the plays we came up with last summer?" I inquired looking around. When everyone nodded, I grinned an evil grin. "All right, let's go then."

We all took to the air, and the quaffle was released. Angelina immediately took possession and hurtled toward the goal, only to have her shot blocked by Brigitte. Despite the fact that she hadn't played for almost ten years, Brigitte was still probably one of the top ten keepers in the world. She threw the ball neatly to Claude who took off down the pitch only to find that he was going to be blocked by Bill and Ginny. Claude grinned cockily at them, and simply dropped the quaffle. Angelina dove for it, only to have it suddenly fly up into Raoul's waiting arms, courtesy of Adele's bat. Adele smirked at Angelina, and swung mightily into one of the bludgers, sending it directly at her father. It became obvious that he couldn't redirect it efficiently enough and George had to simply roll over in mid air to avoid being knocked senseless. I scanned the pitch, looking for the snitch. I knew Harry wasn't going to bother with trying any Wronskie Feints after the last two times he had lost to me because of them. Ginny had possession of the quaffle, and Gianna took careful aim. Her bludger shot down and hit the quaffle, missing Ginny, sending it perfectly into Paul's waiting hands. We were up 30-10, and I watched as Paul raced toward the goal, only to throw it toward the left goal. Suddenly as if appearing out of nowhere, Adele was there and used her bat to redirect the ball through the right hoop.

A suddenly flutter of gold caught my eye and I watched as the snitch began to fly toward me, only forty feet below.

"PAUL!" I shouted, as I dove off the handle of my broom. He came racing down toward me, as Harry raced toward the snitch. I reached out and with one hand grabbed the snitch, and grabbed Paul's extended arm with the other. I swung myself onto the broom behind him and shoved my fist aloft to cheers from my observing family members.

"You beat the hell out of that quaffle!" George cried in awe to Adele and Gianna. "I thought Beaters weren't allowed to hit the quaffle intentionally," Fred added, glaring at them.

"I thought it was a bludger," both girls replied in unison without batting an eyelash.

My laughter rang out through the air and I walked over to where my girls stood. I wrapped an arm around each of them and smiled at Fred and George.

"Actually, the rules only state that no players can handle the quaffle except the keeper and the chasers, therefor, if the quaffle is thrown directly at a beater it would be entirely appropriate for him or her to hit the ball with his or her bat," I said sweetly.

"That is ridiculously sneaky," Harry shouted, stomping over. "Not only do you beat me twice by pulling your disgustingly reckless moves, but you get your whole family to play using tactics that are just barely encompassed by the rules!" He shouted, waving his fist in my face.

I looked at him coldly. "I've seen you do some pretty risky things, Potter," I snarled, clenching my fists. "And you miss the snitch because you're too busy pulling those damn feints! Any seeker who bothered to pay attention would know that when you really see the snitch you go into an 80 degree dive and when you're faking it you only go 76! You're just upset because I kicked your ass running today too!" I shouted back.

"Uncalled for!" He yelled brandishing his broom wildly. "There is no need to insult my flying ability!" He shouted. "Just admit that you and your family CHEATED!"

In a blind fury, I leapt upon him, my fist connecting squarely with his jaw. He stumbled and tripped, and I was on him like an animal, clawing and punching anything that I could get in contact with. Suddenly, two strong arms wrapped around my waist and jerked me up off of Harry. I was panting and struggling against my restraints.

"Annabelle, chill out!" Paul shouted as he ran up to me. "We all know that those plays are dangerously close to cheating."

"They are not!" I bellowed. "Nothing ever says that a bludger has to be aimed at a PERSON and not the quaffle! None of the rules say that you can't hit the quaffle with the beaters bats! It is not anywhere NEAR cheating!" My struggles were weakening substantially.

Exhaustion was beginning to set in more than just emotionally at this point. I had been too tired from running and not eating a full meal to play Quidditch. And then I had used up any and all extra energy playing the game, and now I was running on pure adrenaline and starving, which was extremely bad considering that I suffered from hypoglycemia. Harry glared at me, and tapped his face with his wand, easily fixing any damage that I had done. My mother was walking over toward me, and I took to pouting as I continued to be physically restrained.

"George, why don't you take Annabelle inside and make sure that she eats something," my mother suggested sweetly, dropping a kiss on my forehead. "Beautiful catch, ma cherie."

"Merci, Maman," I replied sullenly as George lifted me more conveniently into his arms. I crossed my arms stubbornly and refused to look at George, which really didn't matter because it wasn't as if he were actively trying to make eye contact with me.

He dumped me in a chair at the table while he rummaged through the cupboard for something that I could snack on until somebody who could actually cook came in. He set a box of crackers in front of me and a glass of orange juice. I just stared at it and then sullenly looked out the window, finally realizing that I still had the snitch gripped tightly in my hand. I let it go and watched it flutter around for a few moments.

"Annabelle," George said sternly, from where he was leaning against the counter.

"What?" I asked waspishly, pulling my legs up to my stomach. I had a horrible feeling that I was going to be violently ill at any moment.

"Eat," he gestured to the box on the table.

"No, I'm not hungry," I replied childishly. My vision was getting a little fuzzy, but I wasn't actually hungry, my stomach just hurt a little.

"Sweetheart, I know you only ate about a third of your breakfast this morning because you were excited about playing," he said softly, his eyes searching my face. "I didn't prank the box or cup, you know," he added with a smile.

Grumbling, I grabbed the glass of orange juice with a violently trembling hand and took a long swallow. I grabbed and ate a few crackers, before passing out on the table.


	13. Chapter 13

My eyes slid open slowly, and I found that my mother was sitting beside my bed, and she smiled as I lifted my head.

"Darling, you really shouldn't scare George like that," she said softly, as she returned to her book. "Molly left you a sandwich but she expects you down in the kitchen for some proper food immediately, so you'd best eat that quickly. Drink this." She handed me a shot of whiskey, and I knocked it back.

"Oui, Maman," I said submissively, remembering how upset she had always gotten over my refusals to do as she said.

The sandwich was lovely, and I ate it quickly and immediately started to feel better. I got out of the bed and pulled a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt on over my running clothes. My shoes had been removed, and I felt very small and vulnerable without any sort of assistance in my height. I walked out the door and mother followed, walking down to the living room. I headed directly into the kitchen, where Molly was sitting with Hermione, Ginny, Angelina, and Percy's, Bill's, and Charlie's wife as well.

"Ah, there you are dear," Molly said as she pulled out a chair for me and immediately began to make up a plate of food for me.

"You missed quite the scene," Ginny told me with a grin. I glanced up to show I was listening, but said nothing. "Every single Weasley was ready to have an attack of some sort. George came running out of the kitchen shouting about you passing out, and your mum just kinda sighed and said 'oh, just leave her there.' Well of course, every one of the Weasleys looked at her like she was crazy," Ginny said with a grin. I laughed.

"When I was younger I'd pass out and wake up hours later in, like, the wine cellar," I said. "Paul liked to move me into highly unusual places. One time I woke up in the shower, it wasn't on of course," I added, smiling sweetly at Molly when she handed me something to eat.

"That's awful!" Ginny cried.

"As long as I managed to eat something right before I passed out I always woke up just fine. Actually, I usually wake up a little later starving and irritable," I told her, as I took a large bite of the fruit on the plate and swallowed just before I was pulled out of my chair into a bone-crushing hug.

"Don't ever do that again!" George shouted giving me a shake.

"I don't try to," I replied quietly, reaching for a piece of bread from my plate. I took a bite, and looked up at him sweetly.

"Fine," he muttered and stomped out, slamming the kitchen door behind him. I sighed and sat back down, picking at the food on my plate.

I found that I was full much more quickly than I should have been, and I frowned slightly looking at the still almost full plate. I picked up one of the cookies and ate it quickly, listening to the other women discussing families and their lives in general.

"So, Annabelle, spill," Angelina said, looking over at me. I looked at her, somewhat confused. I had zoned out for a few moments and hadn't been paying attention to their topic of conversation.

"Spill what?" I asked, looking around the room, which my sister was now sitting in as well.

"About George, of course," Angelina returned, rolling her eyes.

"I can't talk about that!" I cried, looking at them all in shock.

"Dear, Ginny and I have already heard all about my boys from Angelina, Hermione, Nicole, Lydia, and Amanda. We won't be bothered by that kind of information," Molly said calmly taking a sip of her tea. Ginny snickered and nodded.

"Uhh, what did you want to know?" I asked with a deep flush as I looked around the room. Angelina and Hermione looked at eachother thoughtfully, and Ginny grinned broadly. I tapped my fingers nervously on the table.

"How often?" Hermione asked shrewdly.

I choked on my juice.

"You first!" I cried, coughing slightly.

She shrugged. "Twice a week."

"More than that," I replied with a snort, as I drained the cup and looked at Molly. "If I'm going to have to discuss this with you girls, I'm going to need something a little stronger than orange juice," I said with a flutter of my lashes. Ginny burst out laughing and lifted a brow. "Coors of course," I rolled my eyes and she laughed.

"So how often then?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms. I flushed deeply and cleared my throat.

"Probably six nights a week," I replied, taking the bottle that Ginny held out to me. I grabbed the top and twisted it off with my hand before taking a quick slug. Angelina nodded, while Hermione looked positively envious. I shrugged; most of the other girls were simply giggling. My sister was staring at me in amazement.

"That often?" Ginny giggled, and I pinned her with a stare.

"I have eleven years to make up for," I retorted once again taking a pull on my beer, causing an uproar of laughter. As the laughter died down, Bill stuck his head in the door.

"Everything all right in here?" he asked, looking around. To hide my blush, I took another slug of the beer. I was going to be feeling this pretty soon. I didn't really weigh enough to drink an entire bottle myself and not get trashed, but the way these girls were going I was gonna need it all.

"Yes, fabulous," Ginny replied giving him a look that clearly said, 'get out or die.' I laughed as he ran back up the stairs.

"I bet he's really sensitive and gentle in bed," Angelina said suddenly, staring me in the eye. "Fred is," she added.

My eyes slid to the floor, and I lifted the bottle to my lips once again, noticing that it was about a quarter gone.

"Hmm, not exactly," I replied, "I would call it…almost…hmm." I stopped, trying to think of what term I wanted to use, while tapping my bottle against my lips.

"Wild?" Angelina suggested.

"Demanding?" Ginny supplied.

"Frantic." Hermione. I took another drink and nodded quickly.

"Yes," I said. "Those are good words. I think maybe…rough and playful are best, though." I added, swirling the beer left in the bottle. I watched it slosh around.

Molly snickered into her cup of tea. I looked at her in mild confusion.

I looked at my bottle and grinned. I wasn't drunk, but I was certainly at least halfway there. The bottle was about half gone, and I was still packing it down.

"How's Ron then, Hermione?" I asked suddenly, looking over at her quizzically. She shrugged, and glanced at Angelina.

"Probably a lot like Fred," she admitted truthfully. Most of the individuals in the room nodded. I sighed and dropped my head into my hand while tapping my beer bottle on the table.

"Hmm, so basically what you're saying," I said looking around, "is that you all have very quiet, civilized sex?" I inquired, and was rewarded with blushes and nods. "How unfortunate," I mumbled, tracing the lip of the bottle with my finger.

Molly burst out laughing and she had to set her head on the table, the empty teacup set on the table. I stared at her for a moment, wondering why she was laughing. It was unfortunate…unless that was how they liked it. I shrugged and took a long pull on my beer. The other girls were all looking at me curiously.

"You like it like that?" Ginny asked, puzzled.

"You don't?" I shot back in disbelief, eyeing my beer bottle before taking yet another drink of it.

"That's not what I meant," she said, shaking her head. "I meant that you just don't come off as one who would enjoy that. You're so quiet and reserved and generally so sophisticated that it just seems…" she shrugged and I nodded.

"Yep, I know!" I replied with a giggle. I took another drink, and realized that I had just finished the whole bottle.

"Annabelle, how much do you weigh?" Hermione asked, looking at the bottle sitting in front of me.

"Ninety pounds," I replied. "Why?"

"Because if you only weigh ninety pounds, you're gonna be knackered in a few moments," she replied smirking.

"Oooh, fun," I replied as I stretched my back. "When's dinner?" I asked curiously, looking over at Molly.

"Hmm, not for a few more hours," she replied. "You'll be sober by then," she added. "Ginny, why don't you take Annabelle up to her room."

Ginny nodded and walked over to take my hand. I stood up and followed her happily out into the hallway. As we passed the living room, I saw Fred and George playing a game of chess, and I leaned in the doorway.

"Who's winning?" I asked sweetly.

"I am," Fred replied as George glanced up at me. I smiled goofily and let Ginny pull me up the stairs.

We passed Gianna, who rolled her eyes, and then Ginny shoved me into my room. I stumbled slightly, feeling the beer and the whiskey that my mother had given me. I sat on the bed and Ginny sighed before sneaking out of the room and closing the door. I looked around intrigued by everything. This had been Fred's and George's room before they had moved out to their own flats. I was looking around, digging through drawers and the closet. I found a small, old, black box and picked it up as the door opened. I jumped and slammed the drawer shut, looking at George guiltily.

"Looking around, love?" he asked taking a seat on the bed.

"Yep," I replied, walking over and sitting beside him.

"So what did you girls talk about?" he asked, grinning cheekily.

"Hmm, you," I told him, blinking hard.

"Me?" he looked surprised and I giggled.

"That's right. They wanted to know how often we have sex," I added, looking up at him innocently. Had I not been intoxicated I would have been able to come up with some kind of lie. He blinked a couple of times. "And they wanted to know what it was like," I added, in an attempt to be helpful.

"What is was like?" He sounded as if he were being strangled.

"Yeah," I answered. "Angelina thought it would be like with Fred so she was all 'I bet he's really sensitive and gentle' but I fixed them all up," I answered cheekily.

He looked positively mortified, and I took his silence to mean that he wanted me to continue.

"They all said that their husbands are very quiet, civilized lovers, and Ginny didn't believe that I would like it how you do," I told him, wide eyed and smiling happily. "But I do, and I told her that, and then everyone kinda conceded that they would like it wild sometimes too."

George stared at me for a few more moments, before he burst into loud laughter, shaking his head. I looked at him in confusion.

"There is going to be a lot of very loud and very uncivilized shagging going on this house tonight," he told me. I smiled and nodded. "How much did you have to drink?" he asked, holding my chin in his hand.

"Four fingers of whiskey," I said and he nodded impassively. "And just one beer," I added.

"Ok, I'll be back in a few minutes," George said, giving me a quick kiss.

As he left, I lay down in the bed, curling my knees up to my chest. I didn't even bother to pull the covers up over my slim form, and promptly fell asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

Several hours later, George woke me up for dinner.

"Come on love, supper's ready," he told me, dropping a kiss on my forehead.

I groaned and pressed my hand to my head.

"Ugh. I don't want to live," I muttered, slowly opening my eyes. He laughed and scooped me into his arms. My stomach lurched dangerously. "That was a really bad idea," I said, rushing to the bathroom to vomit. Once that was over, my head felt marginally better, and I trudged down to the kitchen with George.

The table was groaning under the amount of food that was set on it. I shuddered slightly, and grabbed a plate to begin filling with the blandest food I could find.

"Anna," George said quietly, his lips whispering against my ear.

"Yeah?" I asked snottily.

"There are too many people in this house tonight," he said quietly, and I looked at him curiously. "There aren't enough bedrooms," he explained.

"Oh," I said quietly. "Well, We could always have the kids stay here tonight, and the adults floo to the London Manor," I suggested. "There are…seventeen bedrooms in the London house," I told him with a shrug.

"I'll go suggest that to mum," he said and slipped away.

Rarely did I ever offer to let people stay in one of my houses. I owned the London Manor, thanks to Grandpere. He had left it to me in his will, and I now owned it free and clear. I let myself fall into one of the chairs and began eating slowly. I watched as George spoke quietly with his mother, and she nodded briskly, waving him away. George cleared his throat and everyone looked up at him expectantly.

"As many of you have realized, there is no way that everyone will be able to fit into this house tonight," he began, and several snorts were heard. "So Annabelle has offered the use of her London home for adults to sleep in. Children will remain here. Please make sure you have your clothes and luggage ready to go tonight at about eight."

There were outbreaks of muttering, and I smiled warmly. George sat down beside me, and wrapped his arm around my waist for a quick hug as he placed a kiss on my cheek. I smiled and continued to eat my dinner.

"We should go over early to make sure that Johannes and Sebastian have the bedrooms prepared, and to make sure that they don't let Hermione see them," I whispered and he nodded and he swallowed.

"Hermione would probably flip out if she encountered your house elves," he agreed, and I smiled.

"I doubt I would live through the night," I joked, reaching for my glass of water.

Gianna and Adele were whispering and looking at a paper in front of them, and Adele was shaking her head and pointing while whispering heatedly to her sister. I grinned and took a sip of water.

"What are they planning?" I asked George quietly. He looked over at our girls, and smiled.

"I don't really know, but it makes me very glad that we aren't going to be staying here tonight," he answered, and I laughed.

"Me too," I confessed. "What time is it?" I asked, looking up at George.

"Hmm, about seven twenty," he told me, kissing my nose. I nodded, and stretched lazily.

"I'm going to head over," I said, kissing George quickly before walking over to the fireplace.

George stepped out of the fireplace in a burst of green flame, followed closely by my parents. I was sitting on the counter eating chocolate ice cream directly out of the carton. I smiled toothily at George.

"We're very tired, Annabelle, so if you don't mind, we'll just be going directly to bed," mom told me. I nodded and smiled warmly, giving each of them a perfunctory kiss.

Mom and Dad both walked over to the stairs and up to the second floor. I grinned when I realized that they had finally decided to start letting me have the master suite in my own home.

"Do I get any of that?" he asked, walking over to me. I grinned and scooped out a spoonful of chocolate ice cream. "That's not what I meant," he said, before eating the ice cream anyway.

"I know," I answered brazenly.

He grinned, and dropped the spoon on the floor as he leaned forward to kiss me soundly. I grinned back and began laughing hysterically when he squashed the container of chocolate ice cream between us, causing chocolate ice cream to ooze everywhere.

"Well hell," he muttered, tossing the carton to the floor and dragging me to the edge of the counter. I moaned softly against his lips, and laughed when the fireplace roared to life.

"Maybe we ought to wait until everyone's here, and we can go to bed," I whispered in his ear as Fred and Angelina stepped out of the fireplace.

"What the hell happened here?" Angelina asked, staring at the chocolate ice cream mess that seemed to cover almost the entire kitchen.

"George felt a need to destroy the chocolate ice cream carton," I said sweetly. She laughed and took Fred's hand. "If you guys go out this door, and take the first hallway on the left you can stay in the second room on the right. Once you go in, your names will appear on the door until I have them cleared," I told them.

"That's bloody brilliant," Fred murmured as they walked out of the kitchen.

I laughed and pushed George away from me for a moment and pulled off my sweatshirt so that I was sitting in my sweat pants a little white T-shirt. He sighed and walked out of the kitchen. I knew full well that he was walking up to the master suite to deposit our trunks, so I didn't bother to ask him his destination.

Paul and Brigitte were the next to arrive followed closely by Elizabeth and Christophe. Jamison and Jennifer were next, and about ten minutes after them, the rest of George's siblings arrived in rapid succession with their spouses. I sighed as the last couple walked out of the kitchen, and I turned to look at the mess that the chocolate ice cream had made. I lifted my hand and simply said, "scourgify." I had always thought that a wand was a little superfluous, and therefor rarely used mine.

"You look amazing," George murmured from the doorway.

I looked over and smiled at him, as I picked up the now empty cardboard container. I dropped it into the trashcan and walked over to link my arms behind his neck. He said a quick incantation to sound proof the room and then another to close the floo connection for the evening. He set his hands on my hips, and kissed me firmly. I sighed softly and was not at all surprised when he lifted me into his arms. What did surprise me was when he shoved all of the pots and pans and appliances off of the kitchen island counter to clatter loudly on the floor.

"George," I warned, and he grinned, setting me down before swinging up beside me.

I laughed as he pushed me flat onto the counter and continued what he had started by the door. My hands became frantic as he literally ripped my shirt off, and I clawed at his until he rose to yank it quickly over his head. Somehow, neither of us had heard anyone walking up on the door, but we did hear the door slam into the wall next to it as it was flung open. I froze and looked over his shoulder. Ginny had walked a few steps into the kitchen, and froze. I blushed furiously.

"Who is it?" George asked in a whisper.

"It's your sister," I answered with a soft laugh. "Move your ass, Weasley," I told him, before sliding off of the counter and snapping my fingers so that Johannes appeared. Ginny continued to stare at us, apparently shocked.

"What, Gin?" George finally snapped, as he retrieved his shirt. "You never shagged Harry before?" he asked. She reached down and picked up the ripped fabric that had once been my shirt.

"Of course I have, just not on the kitchen counter, and he usually doesn't rip my clothes off like a crazed animal," she replied haughtily, tossed me my shirt, and flounced out of the kitchen.

"Johannes, I'm very sorry, but could you clean up this mess?" I asked, holding the torn remains of my shirt to my chest.

"Certainly mistress," he replied, and immediately began working at an amazing pace.

George slung his shirt over his shoulder and then lifted me into his arms and carried me up to our room. He literally threw me into my bed, and I laughed, only to once again be interrupted by an insistent knock on the door. I groaned and flopped back, pressing my hands to my eyes, as George strode over to the door. I flicked my wrist and caused the curtains around my bed to draw closed on the side that would have offered a view of me to whoever was at the door, and listened very carefully.

"What do you want?" George growled, and I bit my lips nervously.

Deciding that this was as good a time as any, I crawled over to the opposite side f the bed and reached into my nightstand to pull out whatever was available and could serve as pajamas, so that I could change quickly. All I found were some of George's shirts, and I shrugged, pulling on one of his Oxfords.

"Is that anyway to speak to your darling little brother?" Ron's voice returned from the doorway. "You've got a rather large problem, mate."

"Yes?" George sounded as if he didn't quite believe that. I sighed, and crawled under the covers of the bed, pulling the thick down comforter up to the bottom of my ears.

"Hermione happened to see what she is convinced is a house elf," Ron whispered. "She's fuming in the bathroom right now, but in a few minutes she'll be storming up here demanding to rage on at Annabelle," he said. "Thought a warning was in order."

George heaved a sigh and closed the door, before walking over to where I was now ensconced in the thick bedcoverings. I smiled sweetly and slid over to the side of the bed, so that he could climb in after changing. I was beginning to believe that Hermione wasn't going to come and shriek at me, and had therefor almost fallen asleep, when there was a loud pounding on the door. I groaned, and moved to shove the blankets out of the way.

"I'll go take care of it, love," George murmured, setting something on a bed table, and swinging out of the bed. I sighed and rolled onto my stomach, trying to remain awake enough to listen.

"Could you please get Annabelle for me?" Hermione asked brusquely.

"She's asleep, Hermione, what do you need?" he asked, stepping out and closing the door behind him.

I smiled warmly, and fell asleep in moments. I never heard him walk back in.


	15. Chapter 15

One of my eyes slid open, and I stared at the clock. It was about six am, which meant that nobody else would be awake yet. I had specifically told Johannes and Sebastian not to make breakfast, and not to fix up the room Hermione and Ron were staying in. I stretched, and glanced down at the shirt I had chosen to wear as nightclothes. When I stood up beside the bed it became obvious just how small I was. George's shirt nearly reached my knees, and I had to roll the sleeves several times in order to have the use of my hands. I quickly buttoned the entire front of the shirt, and slipped quietly out of the room.

My feet made virtually no sound as I walked to the kitchen. Once inside, I began rummaging through the kitchen to find everything I needed to make pancakes. The silence of the kitchen bothered me, and I walked over to the muggle stereo that I had set on the counter. I stuck a mixed disc in, and turned the volume up as it began thumping out dance tunes from any and all eras. I stretched up on my toes, trying to reach the cabinet that held my largest mixing bowl and growled in frustration when my reach fell too short. My eyes narrowed, and I pulled myself up onto the counter and stood up, finally able to reach the bowl. After jumping back down to the floor, I began humming and dancing to the music as I began making the pancakes.

"What on earth are you listening to?" Ginny asked as she walked into the kitchen.

"American Muggle rock," I replied, as Steven Tyler wailed about an effeminate man. She giggled and listened.

"Dude looks like a lady?" she asked, and I grinned.

With a shrug, Ginny grabbed a coffee cup and poured herself a steaming cup. I smiled as she walked over to the table that was just past the actual kitchen and looked out through sliding glass doors over a beautiful smooth green lawn. She watched as I poured more patter into the skillet, and flipped the pancakes.

"So, your pajamas just aren't comfortable?" she asked with a smirk.

"Hmm, no, actually George has kind of destroyed most of my pajamas," I replied, she choked on her coffee, and I looked over curiously. "I couldn't find any of mine last night when I was looking. Why?" I asked innocently, and she shook her head, carefully taking another drink f her coffee.

I slid the last of the pancakes onto a platter and set them in the oven to keep warm while I began to dig through the rest of the kitchen looking for syrup, honey, powdered sugar, and jams. I glanced at the clock. It had taken me two hours to find everything and then actually make the pancakes.

"Ginny, would you make sure everyone is up?" I asked, as I began pulling out plates and silverware.

"Sure," she strode out of the kitchen.

While she woke everyone up, I began slicing and chopping fruit. I left some whole as well, not knowing how everyone liked to eat. I set everything out on the counters with a stack of plates, a pile of napkins, and a bunch of silverware. I was making my own plate when Ron walked in followed closely by Hermione. She smiled at me, and began making her own plate.

"Did your house elves do this?" she asked, glancing up at me.

"No," I replied calmly, as I turned and boosted myself onto the opposite counter to eat. "The table is just over there," I told Ron as I gestured with my fork. He nodded and barely sat down before he began shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming rate.

Hermione sighed and sat beside her husband, looking through the glass at my perfectly kept lawns and gardens. She glanced at me curiously, and I smiled.

"I hire Muggle gardeners," I informed her with a smile. "They're actually very good at what they do, and I rather like being able to walk out and get my hands dirty working with them."

"So, Mum just sent an owl to let us know there's a gala at the Ministry tonight, and the whole family has to go," Ginny said as she walked back in about ten minutes later. "Annabelle, your family can come as well if they would like." I smiled and shrugged, as George walked into the kitchen, looking just like the irritable, cantankerous man he was every morning that I didn't wait around in the bedroom for him to wake up.

"Morning, love." He looked over at me, and grunted unintelligibly, grabbing a plate to load up on whatever he could reach.

I watched as he set his plate on the table and ambled back over, looking for the coffee. Ginny hadn't had any trouble finding it, but everyone else so far had been unable to find it on his or her own. I hopped off of the counter and set my empty plate in the sink.

"Where is the goddamn coffee?" George finally bellowed, slamming his hand on the counter.

Rolling my eyes I walked calmly over to the coffeepot beside the refrigerator and reached up for one of the mugs hanging blow the cabinets. I poured him a cup, and turned around to find that he was standing only a few inches away from me, looking downright upset about something. Almost everyone had already left, and the two left in the kitchen suddenly decided that it was time for them to leave as well.

"You need to calm down," I said quietly, handing him the cup that I held.

I slipped around him, and made my way to the dishes that were still sitting on the counter. I began scraping excess food into the trashcans, and setting the empty plates in the sink. George grumbled something and stormed over to the table, where he began attacking his food with unnecessary violence. He seemed very angry about something, and I didn't have any idea what. What had I done to make him so angry with me?

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly when all of the dishes were in the sink waiting to be washed.

He shrugged, and I felt irritation rising in me at that point too.

"Fine," I said impassively, slamming my glass on the counter.

"Did you plan on mentioning this?" George asked suddenly, holding my invitation to the Gala at the Ministry that evening.

"I had forgotten about it until your sister mentioned it this morning," I replied coolly. "I hadn't been planning to attend."

He nodded, and dropped it back on the table.

"Of course now that I know your entire family will be there, I thought I would attend," I added calmly as I began to place dishes in the dishwasher.

"Dad asked me to take Susan Bones, the Minister's niece, as a favor," George said suddenly, looking up from his plate. I nodded.

"Sounds lovely," I responded. "If you don't mind, I need to go get dressed and run out to purchase an appropriate outfit for this evening."

At this point, I walked out of the kitchen and was halfway to the stairs when George's hand closed painfully around my wrist. I whirled around to face him in a rage. He looked just as angry.

"What's your problem?" I shouted.

"You're not even going to pretend to be upset that I'm taking someone else?" He demanded harshly.

"No!" I shrieked. "Why would I bother? Its not as if throwing a tantrum is going to change anything! You said you were taking Susan, so why would I waste time having a fit?" I demanded, jerking on my arm.

"Because I didn't say I would yet!" he shouted at me.

"That wasn't very clear in there just now!" I told him. I took a slow, deep breath. "Let go of me," I said in an even tone.

"Not until you tell me if you want to go with me," he said, staring at me.

"Are you really that thick?" I shrieked. "Of course I want to go with you!" At this point I tried to yank my wrist out of his grip again. "Let go of me!" I roared as I slapped him full across the face. He jerked and dropped my wrist.

I took the opportunity to turn and run upstairs, where I showered and dressed quickly. I was rushing down the stairs just as Hermione and Ginny were leaving their rooms, dressed and looking as if they were going out for new dress robes.

"So, what are you going to be wearing this evening?" I asked conversationally as we walked to the living room fireplace.

"Hmm, I was thinking about a new set of dress robes," Ginny commented thoughtfully. "How about you?"

"Oh, I was going to go for formal muggle clothes," I responded, with a smile. "I love the way that muggle gowns are designed to be worn without any sort of robe so that you can fully appreciate the gown itself."

Hermione smiled and nodded.

"Yeah…I wish Ron and I had the kind of money that I wouldn't feel guilty," she muttered quietly. "He said to get whatever I wanted, and I know that we could afford it, I just feel guilty spending so much on myself," she admitted.

"What if I pay for part of it?" I asked, with a grin. "Nobody has to know."


	16. Chapter 16

I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. The soft silver gown was carefully designed so that it clung perfectly, showing off my slim delicate figure, while leaving my back almost completely bare. My father was not going to be pleased by the fact that the tattoo of a rose on my lower back was clearly visible. The skirt, which just barely covered my rear, was loose and swirled around my slim legs. Despite the extra fabric, there was along slit on the right side of the gown so that one would see occasionally glimpses of my legs. Even in my four-inch heels my gown nearly reached the floor. I smiled as Liz stepped back to admire her handiwork with my hair. She had carefully, and loosely, curled my hair before pulling it into smooth piles atop my head, allowing a few choice tendrils to fall delicately around my face. I put on a touch of lipstick, before adding my long diamond earrings.

"You look amazing," Liz said, smiling warmly.

"Thanks," I answered, standing up and grabbing my small silver clutch bag and a thin shawl that matched my blue eyes perfectly.

"You look just like grandmother in that movie," she added, and then grinned, "but shorter." I laughed and hit her playfully with my bag. I knew she was referring to our mother's mother, Anne Hathaway, because I had always looked a lot like her.

"I'll see you later," I said, and hugged her briefly before walking downstairs.

Hermione was sitting in one of the chairs, looking amazing in her slinky red dress. She had managed to smooth her hair down and had it pulled into a careful knot at the nape of her neck. Ginny looked fabulous in her gown of emerald green, it plunged daringly in the front, and she had chosen to simply curl her hair in loose ringlets.

"Oh, Annabelle, you look breath taking," Molly said as she walked out of the kitchen. I smiled warmly and hugged her.

"Thank you, so do you," I returned, as Harry and Ron walked into the living room as well, both immediately complimenting their wives.

Ginny looked a little disappointed, clearly she had expected a more…excited reaction. Hermione actually looked angry, and crossed her arms, glaring moodily at the fireplace. I sighed, feeling sorry for the other two girls.

"I think your number one fan is here," Molly whispered to me, nudging me with her elbow.

My eyes darted over to the kitchen, where George was standing perfectly still, staring at me with wide eyes. I smiled shyly, feeling a slight heat creep into my cheeks as his gaze roamed over my body. Before I could move or speak, it seemed, he had me in his arms, kissing me harshly.

"See? That's how you're supposed to react!" Hermione told Ron angrily, gesticulating wildly. "You're supposed to be overwhelmed when you see me, so much so that words aren't sufficient!" She glared at him, and he gaped at her for a few moments.

George pulled away from me and smiled, noticing just how tall my heels were.

"You're actually a normal height this evening," he teased, and with a laugh I hit his chest playfully. He caught my hand and leaned forward and down so his lips were mere millimeters from my ear. "You look astoundingly, breath takingly beautiful. I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you this evening," he murmured huskily. I smiled softly and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"You don't look half-bad yourself, Mr. Weasley," I replied sweetly. "We really do need to be going though," I added apologetically.

"Well we're just apparating," Molly volunteered. "You will of course be going in groups of four, and I think it might be best if Ginny and Harry went second with George and Annabelle," she added. "Keep the two media darlings close to the last to arrive."

I laughed and nodded. Ron and Hermione walked over to stand beside Molly and Arthur and with a loud crack, all four of them disapparated. Ginny and Harry walked over to stand beside George, holding Ginny on his other side. Ginny grinned and raised her eyebrows at me. I smirked a little and glanced at the clock.

"Two minutes," I announced, and George nodded. As one, the four of us apparated to the ministry.

The second that Harry and I appeared, flashbulbs began going off and questions were being shouted at us. I smiled warmly and held up a hand, and the shouting died down enough for me to be heard.

"I will gladly answer any questions you have in a pre-scheduled interview," I announced calmly. "As for this evening, I am willing to answer five questions, and I will call on you for your questions," I informed them calmly. Immediately thirty hands shot into the air. Harry and Ginny were speaking quietly to a couple of reporters a few feet away. George stood beside me, impassive and looking a touch bored in actuality.

"You," I said calmly, pointing clearly at a man two rows back.

"Miss Calavierres, is it true that George Weasley, whom you are here with tonight, is the father of your twin ten-year-old daughters?" the reporter asked.

"That would be true," I replied calmly, and nodded to another reporter.

"Miss Calavierres, are the rumors that you are currently, and have been for some time, living with George Weasley true?"

"Yes, those rumors are true," I answered, and gestured to the next reporter.

"Have you given any thought to the offer from the Appleby Arrows to take Harry Potter's space next year?"

"No, I have not made any plans regarding my Quidditch career. I have very little interest in being Harry Potter's successor," I responded. Honestly, nothing in the world would make me take a position on a team that Harry had already been on.

"Miss Calavierres, do you ever plan on having more children?" A reporter from _Witch Weekly_ asked.

"I would love to have more children at some point," I began, "unfortunately that is not really much of an option right now."

"Do you ever plan on getting married?" The _Witch Weekly_ Reporter followed up immediately.

"Someday I would love to be married," I answered honestly.

"To George Weasley?" Someone shouted. I stared blankly at the crowd, and George grabbed my hand to pull me into the Gala.

Of course I wanted to be married to George. He was the father of my children, and I loved him desperately. George's grip gentled considerably once we were away from the reporters, and he led me to the table where our names signified our seats. I smiled warmly at the other individuals sitting there as I took my seat. The French Minister sat across from me with his wife, Fred and Angelina sat on the other side of George, and the American Minister's daughter sat beside me with her husband on her other side. She was enormously pregnant, and I smiled warmly.

"How are you, Jennifer?" I asked sweetly, setting my hands delicately in my lap.

"Bloated, uncomfortable, retaining water, and hungry," she replied with a grin. I laughed richly, and threw my arms around her in a hug. "How have you been?" she asked, setting her hand on mine which was now resting on the table.

"Wonderful, the girls are in school now, so I finally have a little time to myself," I answered honestly. "When are you due?" I asked curiously.

"The day after tomorrow," She told me with a smile. "The doctor tells me that it's triplets," she added.

"Wow," I replied, and shuddered slightly. "I had a hard enough time with Gianna and Adele, I couldn't imagine what it would have been like to have a third." She laughed warmly.

"Anna, I need to speak with you for a moment," George said quietly, his hand resting on the bare flesh of my back. I nodded and looked back at Jennifer.

"Sorry, Jennifer, but I need to go for a few moments," she nodded and I stood to follow George out of the room.

He pulled me into an empty office, and looked around nervously. I waited expectantly, as he swallowed convulsively before fiddling with his collar.

"George, love, what's going on?" I asked quietly, searching his face. He took a deep breath and looked down at me.

"I love you Annabelle," he said quietly. "I don't know if I can live without you. I wanted to die everyday of the eleven years that we were apart. I want to be certain that I never have to be apart from you again," he told me in a gentle tone, and I stared at him, feeling a sudden bout of nerves. "Annabelle, I've loved you since the first moment I saw you. I know now that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, every morning, every evening, every night," he said quietly, pulling something out of his pocket. I stared at the small black box, not daring to hope that it was what I wanted it to be. "I bought this for you twelve years ago, on this exact day," he said quietly, opening the box. I gasped, and pressed one f my hands to my lips, feeling tears well in my eyes.

Sitting in the box was a ring. There was a large sapphire on the gold band with two diamonds and an emerald on either side. George carefully removed it from the box.

"I think you might want to see this," He said quietly, and I took the ring in my fingers, looking at the engraving on the inside of the band. Engraved carefully on the inside I saw: "Anna & George." I looked up at him.

"Anna, will you marry me?' he asked quietly. I burst into sobs and flung my arms around him.

"Of course I'll marry you, you idiot!" I cried, cupping his face in my hands and kissing him desperately. He grinned and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against him tightly. After a few moments, I remember I still held the ring, and he laughingly placed it on my finger.

I laughed as he grabbed my hand and dragged me back into the other room, where Fred was watching the doorway carefully. When he saw George come back in the room grinning as broadly as he was, he leapt to his feet.

"SHE SAID YES!" HE shouted, running toward us. I laughed richly, and shrieked as he swept me into a tight hug. He set me down and turned to place a smacking kiss on his brother's lips, causing George to splutter indignantly.

Arthur and Molly both looked over at Fred's words, and Molly looked like she was nearly in tears as she made her way over to where we stood, followed closely by the rest of the Weasley clan. I was hugged and passed around, while George was congratulated and punched.

I finally found myself once again in George's arms, and he didn't let go of me again for the rest of the evening.


	17. Chapter 17

I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. The soft silver gown was carefully designed so that it clung perfectly, showing off my slim delicate figure, while leaving my back almost completely bare. My father was not going to be pleased by the fact that the tattoo of a rose on my lower back was clearly visible. The skirt, which just barely covered my rear, was loose and swirled around my slim legs. Despite the extra fabric, there was along slit on the right side of the gown so that one would see occasionally glimpses of my legs. Even in my four-inch heels my gown nearly reached the floor. I smiled as Liz stepped back to admire her handiwork with my hair. She had carefully, and loosely, curled my hair before pulling it into smooth piles atop my head, allowing a few choice tendrils to fall delicately around my face. I put on a touch of lipstick, before adding my long diamond earrings.

"You look amazing," Liz said, smiling warmly.

"Thanks," I answered, standing up and grabbing my small silver clutch bag and a thin shawl that matched my blue eyes perfectly.

"You look just like grandmother in that movie," she added, and then grinned, "but shorter." I laughed and hit her playfully with my bag. I knew she was referring to our mother's mother, Anne Hathaway, because I had always looked a lot like her.

"I'll see you later," I said, and hugged her briefly before walking downstairs.

Hermione was sitting in one of the chairs, looking amazing in her slinky red dress. She had managed to smooth her hair down and had it pulled into a careful knot at the nape of her neck. Ginny looked fabulous in her gown of emerald green, it plunged daringly in the front, and she had chosen to simply curl her hair in loose ringlets.

"Oh, Annabelle, you look breath taking," Molly said as she walked out of the kitchen. I smiled warmly and hugged her.

"Thank you, so do you," I returned, as Harry and Ron walked into the living room as well, both immediately complimenting their wives.

Ginny looked a little disappointed, clearly she had expected a more…excited reaction. Hermione actually looked angry, and crossed her arms, glaring moodily at the fireplace. I sighed, feeling sorry for the other two girls.

"I think your number one fan is here," Molly whispered to me, nudging me with her elbow.

My eyes darted over to the kitchen, where George was standing perfectly still, staring at me with wide eyes. I smiled shyly, feeling a slight heat creep into my cheeks as his gaze roamed over my body. Before I could move or speak, it seemed, he had me in his arms, kissing me harshly.

"See? That's how you're supposed to react!" Hermione told Ron angrily, gesticulating wildly. "You're supposed to be overwhelmed when you see me, so much so that words aren't sufficient!" She glared at him, and he gaped at her for a few moments.

George pulled away from me and smiled, noticing just how tall my heels were.

"You're actually a normal height this evening," he teased, and with a laugh I hit his chest playfully. He caught my hand and leaned forward and down so his lips were mere millimeters from my ear. "You look astoundingly, breath takingly beautiful. I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you this evening," he murmured huskily. I smiled softly and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"You don't look half-bad yourself, Mr. Weasley," I replied sweetly. "We really do need to be going though," I added apologetically.

"Well we're just apparating," Molly volunteered. "You will of course be going in groups of four, and I think it might be best if Ginny and Harry went second with George and Annabelle," she added. "Keep the two media darlings close to the last to arrive."

I laughed and nodded. Ron and Hermione walked over to stand beside Molly and Arthur and with a loud crack, all four of them disapparated. Ginny and Harry walked over to stand beside George, holding Ginny on his other side. Ginny grinned and raised her eyebrows at me. I smirked a little and glanced at the clock.

"Two minutes," I announced, and George nodded. As one, the four of us apparated to the ministry.

The second that Harry and I appeared, flashbulbs began going off and questions were being shouted at us. I smiled warmly and held up a hand, and the shouting died down enough for me to be heard.

"I will gladly answer any questions you have in a pre-scheduled interview," I announced calmly. "As for this evening, I am willing to answer five questions, and I will call on you for your questions," I informed them calmly. Immediately thirty hands shot into the air. Harry and Ginny were speaking quietly to a couple of reporters a few feet away. George stood beside me, impassive and looking a touch bored.

"You," I said calmly, pointing clearly at a man two rows back.

"Miss Calavierres, is it true that George Weasley, whom you are here with tonight, is the father of your twin ten-year-old daughters?" the reporter asked.

"That would be true," I replied calmly, and nodded to another reporter.

"Miss Calavierres, are the rumors that you are currently, and have been for some time, living with George Weasley true?"

"Yes, those rumors are true," I answered, and gestured to the next reporter.

"Have you given any thought to the offer from the Appleby Arrows to take Harry Potter's space next year?"

"No, I have not made any plans regarding my Quidditch career. I have very little interest in being Harry Potter's successor," I responded. Honestly, nothing in the world would make me take a position on a team that Harry had already been on.

"Miss Calavierres, do you ever plan on having more children?" A reporter from _Witch Weekly_ asked.

"I would love to have more children at some point," I began, "unfortunately that is not really much of an option right now."

"Do you ever plan on getting married?" The _Witch Weekly_ Reporter followed up immediately.

"Someday I would love to be married," I answered honestly.

"To George Weasley?" Someone shouted. I stared blankly at the crowd, and George grabbed my hand to pull me into the Gala.

Of course I wanted to be married to George. He was the father of my children, and I loved him desperately. George's grip gentled considerably once we were away from the reporters, and he led me to the table where our names signified our seats. I smiled warmly at the other individuals sitting there as I took my seat. The French Minister sat across from me with his wife, Fred and Angelina sat on the other side of George, and the American Minister's daughter sat beside me with her husband on her other side. She was enormously pregnant, and I smiled warmly.

"How are you, Jennifer?" I asked sweetly, setting my hands delicately in my lap.

"Bloated, uncomfortable, retaining water, and hungry," she replied with a grin. I laughed richly, and threw my arms around her in a hug. "How have you been?" she asked, setting her hand on mine which was now resting on the table.

"Wonderful, the girls are in school now, so I finally have a little time to myself," I answered honestly. "When are you due?" I asked curiously.

"The day after tomorrow," She told me with a smile. "The doctor tells me that it's triplets," she added.

"Wow," I replied, and shuddered slightly. "I had a hard enough time with Gianna and Adele, I couldn't imagine what it would have been like to have a third." She laughed warmly.

"Anna, I need to speak with you for a moment," George said quietly, his hand resting on the bare flesh of my back. I nodded and looked back at Jennifer.

"Sorry, Jennifer, but I need to go for a few moments," she nodded and I stood to follow George out of the room.

He pulled me into an empty office, and looked around nervously. I waited expectantly, as he swallowed convulsively before fiddling with his collar.

"George, love, what's going on?" I asked quietly, searching his face. He took a deep breath and looked down at me.

"I love you Annabelle," he said quietly. "I don't know if I can live without you. I wanted to die everyday of the eleven years that we were apart. I want to be certain that I never have to be apart from you again," he told me in a gentle tone, and I stared at him, feeling a sudden bout of nerves. "Annabelle, I've loved you since the first moment I saw you. I know now that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, every morning, every evening, every night," he said quietly, pulling something out of his pocket. I stared at the small black box, not daring to hope that it was what I wanted it to be. "I bought this for you twelve years ago, on this exact day," he said quietly, opening the box. I gasped, and pressed one f my hands to my lips, feeling tears well in my eyes.

Sitting in the box was a ring. There was a large sapphire on the gold band with two diamonds and an emerald on either side. George carefully removed it from the box.

"I think you might want to see this," He said quietly, and I took the ring in my fingers, looking at the engraving on the inside of the band. Engraved carefully on the inside I saw: "Anna & George." I looked up at him.

"Anna, will you marry me?' he asked quietly. I burst into sobs and flung my arms around him.

"Of course I'll marry you, you idiot!" I cried, cupping his face in my hands and kissing him desperately. He grinned and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against him tightly. After a few moments, I remember I still held the ring, and he laughingly placed it on my finger.

I laughed as he grabbed my hand and dragged me back into the other room, where Fred was watching the doorway carefully. When he saw George come back in the room grinning as broadly as he was, he leapt to his feet.

"SHE SAID YES!" He shouted, running toward us. I laughed richly, and shrieked as he swept me into a tight hug. He set me down and turned to place a smacking kiss on his brother's lips, causing George to splutter indignantly.

Arthur and Molly both looked over at Fred's words, and Molly looked like she was nearly in tears as she made her way over to where we stood, followed closely by the rest of the Weasley clan. I was hugged and passed around, while George was congratulated and punched.

I finally found myself once again in George's arms, and he didn't let go of me again for the rest of the evening.


	18. Epilogue

We had a very small, intimate wedding involving only our families a few weeks later, just after Christmas. Our married life was going wonderfully. I had sold my flat in Hogsmeade and now stayed at George's when we were in Hogsmeade and at one of my homes if we were going elsewhere.

February found us living in my home on Crete. I stepped out of the fireplace, angry and ready to murder someone or something. George was going over some diagrams, plans, and figures which were laid out on the table in front of him. He glanced up as I angrily hurled all of my Quidditch gear against one of the living room walls. The house was very open and airy and many of the walls were really just large windows. I snatched a book off of the table, and hurled it against the same wall with a shriek, and I stormed off to the kitchen. I flung the freezer open and pulled out a carton of chocolate ice cream. I ripped the lid off of it, and dug in the drawers for a spoon. I boosted myself onto a counter and was angrily shoveling ice cream into my mouth by the time George walked into the kitchen.

"So Practice went well today, I see," he said sarcastically, setting a hand on either side of my hips.

"I got fired today," I snapped.

"Why?" he asked, looking shocked.

"I fell off my damn broom," I told him, as I moodily attacked the ice cream.

"They fired you for falling off of your broom?" He asked incredulously.

"No," I told him, waving my spoon. "They fired me for being in breach of my contract," I explained very slowly as if he were a complete idiot.

"Falling off of your broom breaches your contract? Darling, I hate to point it out, but you often take flying leaps off of your broom," he said, looking utterly confused. I screamed in frustration and took a very deep, slow breath.

"No, falling off of my broom was not the problem," I said in as calm a voice as I could manage. "Being in breach of my contract was the problem."

"So how are you in breach of your contract?" he asked, watching me carefully.

"For not telling them I was pregnant," I whispered, dropping my gaze to the spoon I held limply in one hand. He was silent for a moment, and I looked up to see him staring at me in complete shock.

"Pregnant?" he asked finally, as if he didn't believe it.

"I didn't know about it before, but yes," I said calmly. "The team physician said I'm about four weeks along."

He grinned and kissed me fiercely. I smiled weakly, as tears filled my eyes.

"So you've been playing for a month in your condition," he stated as I started crying.

"And now I'm fired!" I wailed, gesturing with my spoon. "What are we going to do?" I sobbed, wiping at my eyes with one hand.

"Anna, you've got over twenty million Galleons, Fred and I are making a steady profit of almost four hundred thousand Galleons a year, I don't think we have any reason to be worried," he told me gently. I nodded miserably. "It's ok love," he laughed as he dropped a kiss on my forehead. I sniffed and smiled at him.

"Do you think it'll be twins again?" I teased, and he laughed.

"Hmm," he responded. "I find that a little unlikely, but I suppose it's possible."

"Twins run in both our families," I reminded him.

"Yes and we already have twins," he shot back.

"I guess you're right."


End file.
